


The Dragon King

by ShadowedDarkness1230



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aunt/Nephew Incest, BAMF Daenerys Targaryen, BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF Rhaenys Targaryen, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Brother/Sister Incest, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Consensual Underage Sex, Dark Daenerys Targaryen, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Rhaenys Targaryen, Death, Dragon Rider Harry Potter, Dragonlord Daenerys Targaryen, Dragonlord Harry Potter, Dragonlord Rhaenys Targaryen, Dragons, Eventual Smut, Incest, Jon Snow is a Sand, King Harry Potter, Lyanna Stark Lives, Molly Weasley Bashing, Multi, Murder, Rhaella Targaryen Lives, Ron Weasley Bashing, Targaryen Harry Potter, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 100,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24261151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowedDarkness1230/pseuds/ShadowedDarkness1230
Summary: During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…
Relationships: Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Harry Potter/Daenerys Targaryen, Harry Potter/Rhaenys Targaryen, Harry Potter/Rhaenys Targaryen/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 97
Kudos: 311





	1. Chapter One(Pre-Phase)

**Author's Note:**

> The story is rated M for now but may change to Explicit later on.
> 
> Before proceeding, CAREFULLY READ TAGS.

**Chapter One(An Offer From Death)**

**A/N. I need to give a warning to both new and old readers. This story will deal with a semi-dark Harry Potter, Daenerys Targaryen, and Rhaenys Targaryen.**

**_Location: Department of Mysteries, Time: June 20th, 1996._ **

**————Harry Potter POV————**

****In stunned horror, Harry Potter watches as the only family he has left is hit by a Killing Curse from Bellatrix Lestrange. He watches as Sirius Black falls through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries used for executing people. Around him, spells fly as other Death Eaters and Order of the Phoenix members fight.

Harry hears a voice behind him, “I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black! You going to get me?” 

Harry spins around, his eyes narrowing with rage and sadness. He sprints after Bellatrix, completely ignoring Remus Lupin's calls for him to stop. He soon comes to the Ministry of Magic's main hall, noticing a massive image of Minister Fudge on the wall behind him. He has time to sneer at it as he runs, his rage rising as Bellatrix continues to taunt him. He raises his wand, and in a voice cold with fury, anger, and sadness, he says the two words that ruined his life, “Avada Kedavra!” 

The familiar green light races from his wand, colliding with Bellatrix’s body. A shiver runs down his spine as he watches Bellatrix's lifeless body fall to the ground, maniacal laughter silenced forever. “ **I am impressed, Harry.** ” A familiar voice hisses in his head. “ **Casting the Killing Curse at the age of fifteen is quite the accomplishment. However, your beloved Lord of Light Dumbledore won’t see it that way. Join me, Harry. Together we can return the magical world to the way it used to be. You can get revenge on the Muggles who raised you. I can see in your head. I know you want to.** ” 

Harry sneers as he hears the voice, looking around himself in search of the source of the voice. “ **You don’t seriously think I would join you after one of your followers killed Sirius, do you, Tom?** ” Harry asks, “ **I would rather die than join you.** ” 

Harry hears a sound behind him and spins around to see Voldemort appear. The silence of the Ministry of Magic's main hall is deafening as the two stand looking at each other. Voldemort has his wand clutched in one hand, his snake-like eyes tracing their way to the scar on his forehead. The silence continues for a few more moments before Tom Riddle's snake-like features twist. A laugh of triumph leaves the non-existent lips as Voldemort says, "The Boy-Who-Lived...What a fitting title. If only you were not going to die here and now, you may live up to all of the fame I gave you." 

Harry snarls in anger, "You murdered my parents, you son of a bitch!" 

For a brief moment, Harry sees a small flicker of hesitation on the man's face, but it is gone before he can confirm that it was ever there. Voldemort eyes him for another long moment; silence still reigns around them. 

Voldemort raises his wand and goes to cast a spell at Harry. Harry closes his eyes, accepting his fate. " _I can finally rest. I am so sorry, Sirius. I will see you soon. And you, mom and dad._ "

As Voldemort prepares to fire the Killing Curse at Harry, the sound of flames behind Harry causes his eyes to fly open. He looks behind himself, his eyes widening when he sees Dumbledore exit the green flames of the floo. 

Dumbledore smiles softly at Harry, nodding in reassurance. However, his eyes are drawn to the crumpled, lifeless body of Bellatrix. His eyes flicker over to Harry, narrowed. His traditionally twinkling eyes are dormant, eyeing Harry with trepidation.

Voldemort smirks at Dumbledore, "Oh no, Albus. Did your _Chosen One_ disappoint you? Did he commit an act you would never have expected from him?" 

Dumbledore's eyes narrow even further, flitting between Harry and Bellatrix's corpse. "I can't say I blame him." Voldemort continues. "Bella here killed his godfather. I would have wanted vengeance, too."

Dumbledore drags his eyes away from Harry to look at Voldemort, ignoring the Dark Lord's taunting statements. “It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on their way.” 

Voldemort sneers at his former teacher, moving his wand into a ready position. “By which time, I shall be gone. And you…shall be dead…”

Simultaneously, Voldemort and Dumbledore cast spells at one another, and Dumbledore's left hand sends Harry flying back towards a black tile wall. 

Voldemort begins to send bolts of high-powered electricity towards Harry, causing the tiles above and around him to shatter. Shards of tile rain down on him as the bolts of electricity continue to come towards him.

Harry watches in awe as Voldemort summons a massive snake made of fire, a cruel laugh echoing around the Ministry. The heat from it blazes against his skin as he watches the snake dive towards Dumbledore. Dumbledore flicks his wand, corralling the massive snake. He sends the fire back towards Voldemort in a crackling blast of power. Voldemort dissipates the wave of fire with a wave of his wand.

Dumbledore summons all of the water from the fountain behind Voldemort, trapping him in a bubble of water. Harry struggles to his feet, walking over to stand behind Dumbledore. He watches as Dumbledore keeps the Dark Lord trapped in the orb of water, amazed at the magical control the man possesses. Voldemort glares at the two from inside the water, fighting to escape Dumbledore's hold. 

A moment later, the bubble of water crashes to the ground, allowing Voldemort to cast what appears to be pure darkness towards Dumbledore. Dumbledore deflects it all. Voldemort seems to collect the dark power before, with a yell, he sends a wave of power outward in all directions. The power sends Dumbledore and Harry backward, shattering hundreds of windows. Voldemort sends the shards of glass towards Harry and Dumbledore, causing Harry to flinch. 

Dumbledore raises his wand but casts no visible spell. The glass hurtles towards them, Voldemort grinning as he watches it. However, the glass hits a wall of blue power, turning it into a fine powder. The powder blows against them as Harry squeezes his eyes shut.

The glass powder surrounds Voldemort, and when it dissipates, the Dark Lord is gone.

Harry feels his scar burn on his forehead, causing him to raise his right hand to press against it. He feels the meager shields he has around his mind crumble as Voldemort powers through them. 

Memories begin to flash through his head as Voldemort shows them to him. “ **You could have been great, Harry Potter. You could have ruled from my side, but you have chosen death. Your death is a waste of a compelling, magical family as you are the last member of the Potter and Peverell and Gryffindor lines. I never wanted any of this. I..."** Voldemort pauses for a moment as if changing what he was going to say, "I **truly feel as if your death is a terrible necessity, but neither of us can live while the other survives. Goodbye, Harry Potter. Join your godfather in death.** ” 

Harry does not think for long about what Voldemort could mean, the pain in his scar making it impossible for him to think clearly. He has tears rolling down his face as he feels Voldemort possess his body and move him slowly and methodically towards the Veil. Behind him, Dumbledore cries out as he realizes what has happened. Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Luna watch in horror as their friend moves towards the Veil, moving through any wards that Dumbledore casts in an attempt to stop him. Dumbledore casts a stunner at Harry’s back, but with Voldemort controlling him, Harry's body ignores the spell's effect. 

Cries come from his friends as they watch him near-certain death. In an attempt to stop his movement, Dumbledore says, “ _Immobulus!_ ” 

The curse hits Harry’s chest, causing Harry to freeze in place for a moment before Voldemort overpowers the spell's effects and forces him to keep moving. Through all of this, Voldemort continues to force Harry nearer and nearer to the Veil. When Harry finally kneels in front of the Veil, Voldemort exits his body, casting wards around them, and says, “Goodbye, Harry Potter. May death judge you well.” 

With that, the Dark Lord puts his hands on Harry’s back and shoves him through the Veil and into the void of death. 

**_Location: Unknown. Time: Unknown._ **

**————Harry Potter POV————**

Harry blinks his eyes open and notices that he is standing in what appears to be the Great Hall of Hogwarts. He slowly turns in a circle, trying to figure out where he is and how he got there. 

A cold feeling causes him to shiver as the room darkens. Behind him, Harry hears a raspy voice say, “Welcome, Harry Potter.” 

Harry spins around and sees a massive figure dressed in dark robes with a skeletal face and hands. “Yo-you are Death?” Harry asks shakily.

The figure nods. “Indeed, I am. Do you know why I am here, Harry?” Death asks.

Harry slowly shakes his head, “No, milord.” 

The figure shakes, and it takes Harry a moment to realize Death is laughing, “There is no need to call me a lord, Harry. Death will do. Now back to what I asked. You are here because my sister Fate and I have decided to give you an opportunity that has never before been given to anyone.”

Harry’s eyes widen, “Thank you, mil—“ He stops himself from saying milord and then says, “Thank you, Death.”

The figure nods its head. “You do not need to thank me. This opportunity, while unique, will have its fair share of hardships. Though I dare say, they won’t be nearly as bad what you faced in your previous life.”

Harry nods sadly at that, “May I ask why you are giving me this unique opportunity?”

The hooded figure nods its head once more. “You may. We are allowing you this opportunity due to the tremendous strength and fortitude that you displayed during the hardships you faced. We saw everything that happened to you, even what your relatives did to you and throughout it all, you remained set in your goals of saving the world.”

Harry looks at the figure in shock. “I-I haven’t done that much—“ 

Death appears to smile at this as he cuts him off, “And there it is. You have humility like none I have ever seen. You never allow yourself to accept a compliment fully. That is the reason my sister is allowing you a gift of her own.” 

Behind Death, a beautiful young woman appears, long, flowing black hair framing her pale skin. “Ah, Harry Potter. It is nice to meet you. I have grown fond of you from watching you live these past fifteen years.” 

Harry nods his head as he blushes, “Thank you, Lady Fate.” He says, and the woman shakes her head. 

“It is just Fate, my dear. You deserve that much.” She turns to face her brother, “Alright, brother, what have you already told him?”

“I just told him that you are giving him a gift, and then I planned for you to tell him what it is.” Death says.

The woman nods. “Good.” She places a hand on Harry’s shoulder and says, “Follow me.” 

Harry follows the woman to the Gryffindor table, where she was him sit down. She looks him in the eyes and then begins talking, “First off, I am so sorry for the fate you have endured thus far. That was not the fate I wrote for you. Tom Riddle changed your fate when he killed your parents on that faithful October night.” 

Harry’s eyes widen as he learns why his life was so miserable. “Um, excuse me. Aren’t you Fate? Why couldn’t you change his and…I don’t know…kill him?”

Fate sighs, “I am afraid Fate doesn’t work like that. By creating Soul Shards, Tom Riddle has both escaped my brother and me. He is immortal while his Soul Shards still live, and he is outside the grasp of fate.” 

Harry nods, but he looks confused. Seeing this, Fate begins to explain what a Soul Shard is. “A Soul Shard is part of a person’s soul. In this case, Tom Riddle created seven Soul Shards, though one of them was unintentional. To create a Soul Shard, you must commit an act that defies Fate. You must murder an innocent, depriving that person of their own life for no reason other than your own gain, thus splitting your soul. By the time of your death, Tom Riddle had less than one percent of his original soul left in his body as each time he creates one, his soul is split in half once more.”

Harry looks at Fate in shock, “Ho-how did Dumbledore not know that?” Harry asks.

Fate smiles sadly, “He did. He also knew something else. He never truly cared for you, Harry, or at least not as much as he cared for his own power and the ‘greater good’ of his. He was raising you like a pig for slaughter, Harry.”

Harry feels a wave of emotions wash over him: Pain, betrayal, sadness, and most of all, anger. “What do you mean he was raising me like a pig for slaughter? You lie!” 

Fate shakes her head sadly, “I am afraid not, Harry. You see, that faithful October night when Voldemort killed your mother in front of you, a part of his soul latched onto the only living thing it could find. You.”

Harry feels his limbs grow numb as he learns a horrible truth. “You are saying…that part of Tom’s soul…is inside of me? And Dumbledore knew this and was raising me so Tom could kill me?” He asks numbly, tears streaming down his face.

Fate nods. “Indeed. Although I need to correct you on something, the Soul Shard was destroyed when you went through the Veil. Unknowingly, Voldemort just weakened himself. And Dumbledore was raising you to die because there is a prophecy about you and Tom. It hints that only you could defeat him and only he could defeat you. The prophecy was also what lead Tom to attack your house. He wasn’t after your parents. He was there to kill you.” 

Harry sobs even harder at that. He was the reason his parents were dead. Everything was his fault. He is interrupted from his misery when Fate says, “Are you ready to hear the offer my brother and I are giving you?” 

Harry wipes away his tears and nods. “Yes, I am ready.”

Fate smiles at him. “Good. Let us return to my brother so we can both explain it to you.”

Fate leads Harry back across the Great Hall to where Death stands waiting. 

Fate nods at her brother. “I think it is best if you are the one to explain the basics, brother.” 

Death nods. “Of course, sister.” Death looks Harry in the eyes and says, “To start things off, we have two choices for you.” Harry’s eyes widen. “Option one is you can be reborn on your world at the same time as when you died and continue to fight Voldemort until one of you dies.” Harry is already shaking his head no to that option. “Or…we will allow you an opportunity that we will never again offer anyone. We are offering to transport you through dimensions to another world. There, you may start a new life from the very beginning. This world is drastically different from the one you are from. For one, there is no advanced technology whatsoever. For another, the culture is very different from what you are used to. You will need to remember that something that would usually be frowned upon or illegal here is most likely not frowned upon there. The world is an age similar to the Medieval Age. The most common weapons are swords. The most important thing is that there is hardly any magic and what there is not nearly as powerful as what you are capable of.” 

Death gestures at his sister. Fate steps forward, “That is where I come on. My gift to you is to allow you to both retain your memories and magic in this new world. Of course, you will have to retrain yourself to reacquaint yourself with the magic, but once you do, you should be able to do whatever you want. Also, we are having you become the newest member of a dying family. Or, as families are called in this world, houses. You are going to be a member of House Targaryen. The former most powerful House in the world. They are known for many things, with the most prominent being the ability to control dragons, their unique appearances with long silver hair and purple eyes, and last but not least,…” Fate hesitates here. 

Harry frowns, “What is the last thing?” He asks curiously.

Fate sighs, “Their habits of inbreeding.” 

Harry’s eyes widen, “Inbreeding? You mean,…incest?” He asks.

Fate nods. “Harry, you need to understand that things are different in this world. The Targaryens have dragon’s blood in their veins, which draws the Targaryens to one another. It is not always their choice that they fall for one another. The dragon’s blood is very picky as to who it allows to control it, and House Targaryen is the only remaining house of the Old Valyrian Empire. They are the last house with a true dragon’s blood. While dragons have been extinct for a while, it is your destiny to bring them back to Westeros, for the good of the whole world.” 

Next, Death says, “Remember Harry, what you choose is entirely up to you. We will not hold either decision against you.” 

Harry’s brain whirs as he tries to process all he just heard. He takes a deep breath, allowing memories of his friends to appear so he will always remember them. Then he says, “I want option two.” A bright flash of light occurs, and Harry’s vision goes black. 

**_Location: Tower of Joy, Dorne. Time: Unknown._ **

**————No Set POV————**

“Come on, your grace. You’ve got this.” A woman says as to the woman on a bed in front of her screaming in agony. Blood coats the bed she lies on, and the wet nurse knows the woman has lost too much blood to survive giving birth. 

Outside the tower, three men stand guard in golden King’s Guard armor. The sound of horse hooves draws their attention to the main road as six horses ride towards them. The three members of the King’s Guard draw their swords, with one of them drawing two blades. 

As the horse rides near, Lord Commander Gerold Hightower lowers his sword and sheathes it once more. The other King’s Guard members, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Arthur Dayne follow his example. 

“Lord Stark.” The Lord Commander greets the lead rider. 

The man nods as he dismounts, the sigil of a Direwolf embroidered on the front of his armor. “Lord Commander.” Eddard Stark replies. “I am surprised to see you here. I thought you would be at the Battle of the Trident protecting your king.” 

The Lord Commander smiles, “Lord Stark, send your men away unless you trust them wholeheartedly not to repeat what you discover to anyone, ever.” Lord Stark looks surprised but does as he is told, sending away Lord William Dustin, Ser Mark Ryswell, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, and Theo Wull, leaving only Howland Reed with him. The Lord Commander nods before saying, “We are protecting our charge, Lord Stark. He is in the tower.” 

Lord Stark shakes his head, “That isn’t possible. As I left the battle, I saw Robert kill Rhaegar.”

The three King’s Guard bows their heads but none of them balk at the news. “That news saddens me, but it doesn’t change the fact that we are guarding our king's child.” 

A loud cry of agony interrupts the conversation, causing Lord Stark’s eyes to widen in shock. “Lya.” He mumbles to himself. 

Ser Arthur Dayne hears him and nods his head, “Yes, Lord Stark. Your sister is giving birth at this very moment to our king.” 

At that moment, everything makes sense to Eddard Stark. Lord Stark knew that it wasn’t like Rhaegar to kidnap anyone, and he knew that his sister would never have allowed anyone to attempt it. The rumors of Rhaegar raping Lyanna must also be fake.

The King’s Guard watch as understanding dawns in Lord Stark’s eyes. Lord Stark looks frantic as he says, “I need to see her. I must.” 

Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell look at Ser Gerold to see what he would say. “Of course, Lord Stark. Seeing you will do the queen some good.” 

Lord Stark’s eyes widen once more as he connects the final dots. “Lyanna and Rhaegar married?” He asks, but he already knows the answer. 

The King’s Guard all nod. “Yes, Lord Stark. The Lady Lyanna and his grace married in secret after Rhaegar had his marriage with Elia Martell annulled. Elia was no longer capable of giving birth, and Rhaegar still needed another heir. Lady Elia agreed to the plan and even encouraged it. There are documents in the tower on a wooden table about all of this, including two birth certificates. One for a female and one for a male. I suggest you collect all of these documents.” 

Lord Stark nods before briskly walking towards the tower. He walks up the stone steps and through a wooden door. His eyes widen, and shock and fear well up inside him at the sight he sees. His sister lies on a bed with blood soaking the blankets and mattress. A wet nurse is attempting to help her get the baby out, but some major complications had obviously occurred. 

Lord Stark rushes to the bedside, grabbing Lyanna’s hand to give her support. The wet nurse bears no resistance and just continues to massage Lyanna’s swollen belly. 

Lyanna opens her eyes, hazy with pain and loss. “Ned? Ned, is that you?” She asks, hopefully.

Ned nods. “Yes, it’s me, Lya.”

The woman smiles, “You came for me.” She says weakly.

Ned nods, “Of course I did. I will always come for you, Lya.” 

The woman nods, “I know you will, Ned. You always have.” Lyanna screams in pain once more as another contraction hits her. “Where is Rhaegar?” She asks.

Ned smiles at her sadly, “He is dead, Lya. Robert killed him at the Battle of the Trident.” 

Lyanna’s eyes widen in horror as she realizes what her brother said. Her beloved husband was killed by the whoremonger who claimed to love her. She feels another contraction rock her body and screams in pain, both emotional and physical this time. The wet nurse says, “I see the head, Lady Lyanna. Keep pushing.” 

Lyanna screams in pain, gripping Ned’s hand so tight that it begins to turn white. Soon the wet nurse reaches down and eases the rest of the baby out of Lyanna Stark. She wraps him in a blanket and hands the baby to Lord Stark before turning and walking out of the room, leaving Ned and Lyanna alone. Ned notices that the baby has the trademark Targaryen eyes and the beginning strands of Targaryen hair.

Ned holds the baby so Lyanna can see him. “What will you name him, Lya?” He asks. 

The woman smiles, “Rhaegar and I discussed it before he left. If it were a girl, we would have named it Rhaella, but if it was a boy, we were to name it Haeron.”

Lord Stark smiles, “Haeron Targaryen. Welcome to the world, my prince.” Ned says. 

Lyanna smiles, but her eyes begin to shut. It is then that Ned realizes the implications of the amount of blood surrounding Ned. Lyanna begins to cry, “I don’t want to die, Ned. I don’t want to leave my son. I can’t die. I won’t abandon him to grow up without a mother.”

The usually calm Lord Stark begins to quietly sob as his sister’s breaths get shorter and shorter. Ned holds his sister’s hand as her breathing steadily slows, and her eyes close. Her skin begins to turn a pale white color. Then a miracle happens. The newborn King crawls out of Ned’s arms and onto Lyanna’s chest. He presses his tiny hands against Lyanna’s chest, and Ned gasps as the King’s hands begin to glow. 

The blood all over the bed begins to return to her body. Her skin's flesh begins to return to its usual color, and she begins to breathe normally once more. 

A few moments later, Lyanna opens her eyes, confusion written all across her face. She asks, “Ned? How am I alive? I was dying! I know I was.” 

Ned stands in shock for another moment before saying, “Your son used some sort of sorcery to save your life. I have never seen anything like it. He placed his hands on your chest and concentrated. His hands glowed, and the blood flowed back into you.” 

Lyanna looks at her son in shock as he lays fast asleep on her chest. “He…used sorcery to save me? How is that possible? I thought that you had to train to be a sorcerer.”

Ned shakes his head, just as shocked and amazed as Lyanna. “I am sorry to say this, sister, but we really need to leave. We need to get you and Haeron as far away from Robert and the Lannisters as we can. Robert will kill you and the boy if he learns of its existence.”

Lyanna nods her head in understanding, “I agree, brother. How will we get there, though?” 

Ned closes his eyes in thought before saying, “I cannot travel with you. Robert wishes for me to be at his coronation. He may become suspicious if I am absent. The King’s Guard can take you to a harbor where you can charter a ship to Pentos. Some Targaryen loyalists should be able to shelter you there. If I can, I will send Queen Rhaella, Queen Elia, and their children to you. I will do my best to save them, but if Robert gets to King’s Landing first, they are as good as dead.” Ned leans down and kisses his sister on the forehead, “Goodbye, Lya. I hope when we meet again, it will be to aid Haeron and Aegon in conquering their Westeros from Robert.”

Ned kneels before the baby and says, “I, Eddard of House Stark, do hereby swear my undying loyalty and fealty to House Targaryen.” 

Ned stands up and sheaths his sword. He pulls Lyanna to her feet, steadying her. Lyanna smiles at her son. “He is a miracle worker. There is no way I should even be living right now; let alone walking.”

Ned nods his head in agreement. “He sure is.” He says.

Ned walks over to a wooden table and grabs a stack of documents. He walks out of the tower with Lyanna close behind him with Haeron in hand. 

They approach the King’s Guard, and they all kneel before the baby in Lyanna’s arms. “Lady Lyanna. It is good to see you. I am glad the birth went smoothly.” The Lord Commander says.

Ned and Lyanna share a look. Mentally, they both decide not to reveal the King’s powers just yet. Ned nods his head and says, “I am afraid I must leave you all here. Robert expects me for his coronation. I suggested to Lyanna that you all booked passage to Pentos, so you are far from the Lannisters and Robert. I will rush to King’s Landing to try and save Queen Rhaella and her children, along with Queen Elia and her children. If I can, I will try and send them to you.”

The Lord Commander nods, “Of course.” He sees Ned hesitating to leave and says, “Do not worry, Lord Stark. We will protect both of them with our lives.” 

Lord Stark nods. He hands the documents to Ser Arthur Dayne and walks towards his horse. He climbs on the horse and turns to face them one last time. “When the time comes, I will support House Targaryen's claim to the throne. As will the North.” 

The three King’s Guard all nod their head in acknowledgment. Hearing Lord Stark say it means that he intends to do it. 

**_Location: King’s Landing. Time: One week later._ **

After a week of hard riding, Eddard Stark and Howland Reed reach the capital of Westeros. They ride through the gate and into the city. When they reach the Red Keep, Eddard dismounts and walks into the keep. 

Upon his entry, the smell of blood overwhelms Eddard’s senses. He walks through the castle, searching for the source, and enters the room where the Iron Throne sits. The body of Aerys II Targaryen lies on the ground, a stab-wound through his neck. Eddard doesn’t flinch at the sight of the Mad King’s body and continues walking. 

He reaches the living quarters of the Targaryens, and the smell of blood returns. Eddard keeps walking, and the smell of blood gets stronger. He enters a room that appears to be a nursery and gasps in horror.

The body of Elia Martell lies on the ground, naked and clearly violated before she was killed. The bodies of a baby and a young girl lie next to her, also mutilated. The head of who he assumes to be young Rhaenys Targaryen has been smashed beyond recognition as if her head was smashed against the floor. Young Prince Aegon has a stop wound through the chest, right where his heart was. The heart was cut out and sat on the chest of Elia Martell. 

A sound behind Eddard causes him to spin around, sword at the ready. The broken and clearly exhausted face of Jamie Lannister appears, King’s Guard armor covered in blood. 

Eddard launches himself at the young man and slams his neck against the wall, “Did you do this, Ser Jamie?” He asks undisguised fury and disgust in his voice. 

Jamie shakes his head, “No, Lord Stark, I did not. My father’s slave Gregor Clegane did this. I could do nothing to stop him.” The young man begins to cry once more, “I failed him, Lord Stark. I failed Rhaegar. He tasked me with protecting his children and wife, but I failed him.” 

Eddard releases the young man, instantly recognizing the young man is sincere. “Do you know where Queen Rhaella is? I hear she is pregnant.”

Jamie nods, “She is on Dragonstone. Aerys thought she would be safer there, and clearly, he was right.” 

Ned notices the way Jamie says Aerys’ name with both disgust and shame, and he says, “You killed Aerys, didn’t you, Ser Jamie?” 

The young boy nods. “Yes. I killed him.” No hint of pride present in his voice, only broken resolve. 

Ned nods, “May I ask what finally drove you to commit the deed?” 

Jamie nods, “Of course, Lord Stark. He ordered the pyromancers to ignite Wildfire throughout the city. He wanted to destroy King’s Landing and all those who live in it.” 

Ned’s eyes widen, “I understand why you did it, Ser Jamie. You did the right thing. Many will not agree with me on that point, but you did.”

The Knight nods. “Thank you, Lord Stark. Now I have a favor to ask of you.” 

Ned nods his head, “If it is in my power and is reasonable, I will do my best to grant your request.”

The young man lowers his eyes to the ground before whispering, “Kill me. I can’t live anymore. I failed Rhaegar, and I am a Kingslayer.”

Ned shakes his head. “I am sorry, Ser. I will not grant that request. I have something to tell you. I am telling you in the idea that you won’t reveal it to anyone you do not trust wholeheartedly.”

The young man nods, “I understand, Lord Stark. And I swear not to repeat whatever it is that you tell me.”

Ned nods. “Good. Then I will tell you this; my sister gave birth. She gave birth to Rhaegar’s son. Haeron Targaryen, the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. At this very moment, she is being escorted by Lord Commander Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent, and Ser Arthur Dayne to Pentos. They are going to raise the King so he may one day reclaim his rightful place as king.” 

Jamie Lannister’s mouth falls open in shock, “Rhaegar’s son…” He looks Eddard in the eyes. “I must go to him, Lord Stark. I swore always to protect Rhaegar. I failed in that, and I refuse to let anything happen to Haeron. My father is a monster. He is the one who ordered the Mountain to kill Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon. I do not wish to be his heir.”

Eddard smiles. “You are a good man, Ser Jamie. You may not realize it yet, but you are. I have no idea how you have turned out as good as you have without a mother, solely raised by Tywin Lannister.”

Jamie smiles and begins to walk out of the room, “I will not fail the King, Lord Stark. I will aid in his conquest when he returns for his throne.”

Eddard smiles. “I know you will. Good luck, Ser Jamie. Tell my sister I love her.” 

The young, golden-haired man smiles, “I will, Lord Stark.” He says and walks out of sight.

**_Location: Dragonstone. Time: A month later._ **

**————Rhaella Targaryen POV————**

Rhaella Targaryen breaths heavily as her body contracts. She knows that she will have a tough time surviving giving birth. She struggled to give birth to Viserys, and that was years ago. As her age increased, she continued to get weaker. Another factor against her survival is that the wet nurse that was supposed to aid her birthing process didn’t show up due to the raging storm. 

The only person aiding her birthing is Lord Varys. The man, while very intelligent, knows nothing about childbirth. Another smaller figure is in the room. The young girl sits worriedly, biting her lip as her grandmother gives birth. Rhaella clearly remembers getting the news that nearly her whole family was dead like it was yesterday.

 _—_ **_Flashback—_ **

Queen Rhaella sits on a chair in the Council chamber of Dragonstone, wondering when Lord Varys would return with news about the happenings in Westeros. Suddenly, the door to the Council Chamber bursts open, and Lord Varys walks in, carrying a little girl in her arms. Rhaella instantly recognized Rhaenys, but her body began to shake at the implications of Rhaenys being here instead of King’s Landing. 

She opens her arms, and Rhaenys runs into her waiting arms. Rhaella pulls her granddaughter close before turning to Lord Varys. “What has happened?”

“A great deal has happened, I am afraid. Your eldest son perished while at the Battle of the Trident, struck down by Robert Baratheon. Soon after, Queen Elia was murdered along with Prince Aegon. The Lannisters were behind the attack. They believe Princess Rhaenys died, and I switched her with another girl her age with similar Valyrian features. King Aerys was killed, though I feel that his death probably isn’t as meaningful to you as the rest. Lady Lyanna, Rhaegar’s second wife, is assumed dead though a body was never confirmed. Lord Stark said she was killed and that he buried her in the Crypts at Winterfell.”

All of the deaths crash onto the shoulders of the now Dowager Queen. The pain, grief, and anger that consumes her send her down a road that no-one ever wants to travel. “Thank you, Lord Varys, for saving my granddaughter. You are dismissed. I need time to grieve.”

The Eunuch walks out of the room, and Rhaella bursts into tears, holding Rhaenys closer to her chest. The two females grieve for their losses together in a tangled mess of grief. 

**_—Flashback End—_ **

Rhaella feels her body contract once more, drawing her from her memories. She screams in pain as the baby inside her begins to work its way into the world. Rhaenys walks to stand at her side and begins to brush her small hands down Rhaella’s stomach comfortingly. 

When the baby finally emerges, a crack of thunder is heard. Rhaella is near death from exhaustion and pain, but she has a new daughter. Rhaenys carefully hands the baby to the exhausted Queen, and Rhaella can already see that Rhaenys feels a connection to the baby. 

Rhaella admires her daughter before saying, “Daenerys. I name you Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.” 

**A/N.**

**Do not go into this story expecting every character to survive. This is GoT. Many deaths will occur. There will be incest and strong scenes of intimate activities. There WILL be underage. I don't know why some people have been surprised by that fact.**


	2. Chapter Two(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M.

 **Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech),** ** _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter.

**Chapter Two(Dragons Reunited)**

**_Location: Dragonstone. Time: One week later._ **

**————Rhaella Targaryen POV————**

Rhaella sits in the chair in the Council Chamber where she learned about the demise of her family. Daenerys is asleep in her lap and Rhaenys sits in a chair right next to her. Rhaella sighs, wondering if the three of them are truly the last Targaryens. 

Suddenly, Lord Varys walks back in, a neutral expression on his face. “I have great news and horrible news, milady.” 

Rhaella sits up, “What is it Lord Varys?”

The man walks forward to stand before her and Rhaenys walks forward to stand at her grandmother’s side. 

“I have received a raven from Eddard Stark.”

Rhaella nearly snarls, “You got my hopes up to tell me you received a letter from the Usurper’s dog?” She asks quietly, a warning in her voice. 

Lord Varys nods, “It seems you have been falsely informed, milady. Lord Stark has done nothing against House Targaryen. In fact, he sent me some wonderful news.” 

Rhaella calms down some, “What news did Lord Stark send?” 

Lord Varys smiles, “There are other Targaryens alive still. Lady Lyanna gave birth to Haeron Targaryen. Lord Commander Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent, and Ser Arthur Dayne are escorting her and the newborn King to Pentos as we speak.” 

Rhaella’s eyes widen before she smiles, “Wonderful! Then Haeron is the true king. Now may I ask what the bad news is?” 

Lord Varys looks a little nervous now, “I am terribly sorry to have to inform you that your son Viserys Targaryen was captured by Robert Baratheon. They executed him before a large crowd.” 

Rhaella feels tears well in her eyes at the death of her only surviving son. “Thank you for informing me, Lord Varys. Is there anything else?”

Lord Varys nods, “Yes, milady. There is a privately chartered ship waiting at the Dragonstone docks to take you, Princess Rhaenys, and Princess Daenerys to Pentos to be with the Lady Lyanna and her newborn son. Stannis Baratheon is on his way here so we need to leave.”

Rhaella nods her head, “I understand. It will be good for Rhaenys and Daenerys to grow up with another Targaryen. There is nothing left for us here.”

Lord Varys nods. “Whenever you are ready, milady.”

Queen Rhaella rises from her chair, holding Daenerys in her arms. “Lead the way, Lord Varys.” She turns to Rhaenys. “Stay at my side, Rhaenys. These are not the times to run off.”

The young girl nods, violet eyes brimming with understanding. “Of course, grandmother.” She says in a small voice. 

Rhaella smiles. “Good.” She turns back to face Lord Varys. “We are ready, Lord Varys.” 

The man nods and pulls a hood over his face. He hands Queen Rhaella a cloak and then gives Princess Rhaenys one too. He then leads them through the hallways of the Dragonstone keep. They exit the Dragonstone keep and make their way through the streets of Dragonstone, people stopping to stare at them. Some people bow their heads in respect while some simply smile at them. 

Rhaella smiles back at them and reaches down to hold Rhaenys’ hand. The young girl looks up at smiles at her. 

When they reach the docks, Lord Varys leads them to a small boat with one mast. A crew of ten mans the deck, all of them bowing their heads to Queen Rhaella in respect. “I am sorry to leave you here, milady but the Usurper expects me at his coronation that has yet to occur.” Varys calls out, “Captain, take this woman to her chambers.”

The man nods and says, “This way, milady. We need to get underway.” 

Rhaella boards the ship with Daenerys in her arms and Rhaenys at her side. She turns around and says, “Thank you for all of your help, Lord Varys. House Targaryen owes you a debt.” 

The man shakes his head, “No thanks is required. I am doing what is best for the realm.” 

Rhaella nods her head before following the captain of the ship below deck. He leads her to an empty cabin at the end of a hallway before saying, “This is your room right here, your grace. If any of the crew give you problems, just let me know. They will be dealt with.”

The Dowager Queen smiles, “Thank you.”

The man nods, “Of course. Enjoy your voyage, milady.” 

**_Location: Tower of Joy, Dorne. Time: Birth of Haeron Targaryen_ **

**——Haeron Targaryen(Harry Potter) POV——**

The first feeling Harry begins to feel is a feeling as if he is apparating. It feels his body is being squeezed through a tiny tube and Harry begins to wonder what could be happening to him. A scream of agony is heard and the tunnel around him begins to move him towards a light at the end of the tunnel. When his head finally pokes out of the tunnel, he gasps in shock as he realizes what was happening to him. He is being born. “ _I think I understand why you don’t remember being born._ ” Harry thinks to himself with a laugh. 

His new mother is beautiful and has long, black hair. A woman reaches down and pulls him from his mother, wrapping him in a blanket and hands him to a man standing at his mother’s side. “What will you name him, Lya?” The man asks his mother. 

Harry’s heart nearly bursts at the feeling of the love coming off of his mother. “Rhaegar and I discussed it before he left. If it was a girl, we would have named it Rhaella, but if it was a boy, we were to name it Haeron.” 

Harry smiles as the man holding him says, “Haeron Targaryen. Welcome to the world, my prince.”

Harry frowns at that, “ _My prince? Death and Fate said I was going to be a Targaryen but they never mentioned that I was going to be royalty._ ” 

Harry hears his mother begin to cry and frowns, “I don’t want to die, Ned. I don’t want to leave my son. I can’t die. I won’t abandon him to grow up without a mother.” It is then that Harry realizes that there is a tremendous amount of blood soaking the bed his mother lies on. “ _No! I just got a new mother. I refuse to lose her too._ ” 

He watches as his mother’s breaths get shorter and less frequent before he has had enough. He crawls out of the man’s arms and onto his mother’s chest. He carefully places his hands. Mentally, Harry says, “ _Vulnera Sanentur._ ” 

The blood around his mother flows back into her body and her breathing slowly returns to normal. Eventually, her eyes open once more and Harry smiles in relief. He feels a wave of exhaustion wash over him before his vision falls to black. 

**_—Time Skip—_ **

When Haeron finally blinks his eyes open, he feels the ground beneath his mother sway. “ _What the…_ ” He thinks.

He sees his mother look down at him and she smiles when she sees him awake before saying, “Don’t ever scare me like that again, my son. I know you saved my life and I will forever be grateful for that but don’t ever but yourself in so much danger again. You have been asleep for nearly two weeks my son.”

Haeron feels his surprise displayed on his small face and sees his mother notice his facial expression. “Wait…can you understand what I am saying, Haeron?” She asks.

Haeron debates pretending like he can’t but decides it would make much more sense to answer yes. He nods his head, causing Lyanna Stark to gasp in shock.

“How is this possible? First you use some sort of sorcery to save me and now you a less than a month old and can understand what I am saying. You truly are special aren’t you?” She says.

Haeron doesn’t do anything and he hears footsteps approaching them. Lyanna turns around and Haeron sees three men dressed black cloaks. He catches a flash of silver and gold armor on underneath the cloaks and reasons that they must be guards of some sort. Lyanna says, “Haeron, this is Lord Commander Gerold Hightower of your King’s Guard. The other two men are Ser Arthur Dayne and See Oswell Whent. They are the only surviving members of your father’s King’s Guard and they now serve you.”

The three men look at Lyanna curiously as they are introduced to a baby but that curiosity turns to shock when Haeron waves at them with one small hand. 

Lyanna smiles, “I don’t know how, Sers, but Haeron can understand me. Look.” She says, gesturing at the baby. “Haeron, look at the Lord Commander.” 

The baby king turns his head to look directly at Gerold Hightower and the King’s Guard all gasp before they all lower themselves onto a knee. “Your grace.” They say.

Haeron begins to do his best to laugh but it comes out as a giggle. He tries to tell the men to stand but his young mouth and vocal cords are not yet developed enough to speak. Instead, he gurgles and then falls silent. Then baby Haeron puts his palm face up and gestures upwards.

The three men rise, shock and awe written all across their features. “He truly is special, Lady Lyanna.” The man called Arthur Dayne says.

Lyanna smiles. “Yes. He certainly is.”

**_——Time Skip——_ **

As Haeron is carried ashore in his mother’s arms, he smiles in joy. The feeling of having someone truly love him was one he never experienced in his original life. The three King’s Guard follow close behind them, cloaks still hiding their armor. 

A man waits for them on shore and he says, “Welcome to Pentos. I am Illyrio Mopatis. The Spider tasked me with being your host while you are here. I hope your voyage went well?”

The King’s Guard all step in front of Haeron and Lyanna. “How do we know you are who you say you are?” The Lord Commander asks.

The man smiles before reaching into a pocket in his robes and hands a letter to the Lord Commander. “That letter is signed by the Spider and by Lord Stark himself.”

Gerold opens the letter and verifies its contents before saying, “Very well. Lead us to our new home.” 

The man nods and says, “I am also overjoyed to report that other guests have already arrived that I am sure you will be thrilled to see.” 

Lyanna steps past the King’s Guard and asks, “Who?”

The man smiles, “Queen Rhaella, Princess Rhaenys, and the newborn Princess Daenerys.”

All four adults gasp at the names, “Take us to them.” Lyanna orders.

The man nods and turns away from them to begin walking. “Follow me, your grace, milady, Sers.” He says.

They follow him to a large villa that screams wealthy. The walls are covered in golden embroidered art and expensive silks hang at the windows. Illyrio leads them through many hallways until they reach a wooden door. “Queen Rhaella, Princess Rhaenys, and Princess Daenerys are in here. I will leave you to reunite in peace.” 

He opens the door and then walks away. Lyanna quickly walks into the room, hopeful that the guests are who their host declared them to be. She enters with Haeron clutched in her arms, the King’s Guard close behind. 

Lyanna bursts into happy tears when she sees Queen Rhaella and two children. Lyanna walks forward and watches as Queen Rhaella looks at her. A smile splits the Dowager Queen’s face as she stands up, gently placing a sleeping baby girl with violet eyes and silver hair in a pile of blankets next to her. She reaches down and grabs Rhaenys’ hand, leading her towards the new people. 

Haeron has to admit that Queen Rhaella is by far the most beautiful adult he has ever seen but he feels a connection to the young girl at her side. She is beautiful, with silver hair and violet eyes that glow in the sunlight. Queen Rhaella says, “My dear Lyanna. I am so glad you survived. Now let me meet my grandson.” She says.

Lyanna walks forward and gently places Haeron in Rhaella’s arms. The former queen smiles at the young baby and says, “He looks just like Rhaegar. Rhaegar would have loved to meet him.” 

Sadness descends on the room. Haeron senses it and claps his tiny hands together in an attempt to lighten the mood, giggling at the same time. 

The room’s occupants laugh at the actions of the young king and Haeron smiles. Rhaella looks at Lyanna and asks, “May I lie him down with Dany?” 

Lyanna smiles before saying, “Ask him.” 

Rhaella looks confused before saying, “Haeron, may I lay you down next to Daenerys?” 

To Rhaella’s shock, Haeron nods. She places him in the pile of blankets and watches at Daenerys and Haeron draw together, tangling their limbs as Haeron falls asleep with Daenerys. Rhaella turns to Rhaenys and says, “Come here Rhaenys.” 

The young girl walks over to her and says, “Yes grandma?”

Rhaella smiles, “That boy is your half-brother. His name is Haeron and he shares a father with you.”

The young girl’s eyes widen and she looks at the two young children. “My brother?” She asks. 

Rhaella smiles and nods, “Yes. He is your brother.” 

The small girl slowly crawls into the blankets with the two young children and the adults watch as the three children wrap themselves together. Suddenly, Queen Rhaella gasps. 

The way the children are intertwined forms a rough replica of the sigil of House Targaryen. Or as close to it as three children can get as they are not dragons. The others in the room begin to notice it as well and a shocked Rhaella says, “I do believe that the three of them will be the three heads of the dragon. The fact that Haeron can already understand me displays a never before seen level of intelligence and I can already see a very strong bond between the three. The second Haeron entered the room, he and Rhaenys couldn’t take their eyes off of one another.” She turns to Lyanna. “Is there anything else about Haeron that is unique?” She asks.

Lyanna nods her head, pride displayed on her face as she says, “Yes, Lady Rhaella.”

Rhaella cuts her off, “Oh please. Don’t call me Lady Rhaella. I would love it if you called me either mother or Rhaella. Rhaegar would have wanted me to care for you.”

Lyanna smiles and says, “Mother. After giving birth, I was dying from blood loss and pain but Haeron used sorcery to heal me. According to Ned, he crawled onto my chest and pressed his hands against me where they began to glow.”

The King’s Guard look just as shocked as Queen Rhaella at the news and they all look at the three silver-haired children in the nest of blankets, specifically at Haeron. 

Queen Rhaella smiles as she gets over her shock, “I do believe these three are destined for greatness. I can easily see the three imitating Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya. The three will return House Targaryen to its original glory. The three will conquer the entirety of Westeros and beyond until everyone is subservient to House Targaryen. And most importantly, the three will bring dragons back into the world.

**_Location: Illyrio’s Mansion, Pentos. Time: Two years, ten months later._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron sits on a balcony looking out over the city of Pentos. Over the past three years, Haeron has grown to become a beautiful young boy with silver hair and glowing purple eyes of a brighter color than Rhaenys’ and Daenerys’ eyes. 

He had begun to learn military strategy from the King’s Guard and his grandmother had begun to teach him the way a monarch should act. 

But none of that compared to the bonds shared between Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys. After they first met when they arrived in Pentos, it had taken Haeron a few months to get used to the new reality he was living in. This involved him sitting for long periods of time to observe his surroundings as best he could. The world around him was so different from what he was used to that at times he had to be careful as to what he did. He was young enough that when he went to do something, the adults around him rushed to help him. Him being a future king only made it more ridiculous. The day they had arrived in Pentos and he had met Rhaenys and Daenerys was one that Haeron will never forget.

**_—Flashback—_ **

The moment Haeron is placed next to a sleeping Daenerys, he feels his body being drawn to the sleeping girl. His memories from Harry Potter are against him getting so intimate with a girl he didn’t yet know even if he is only two months old, but those memories are absolutely overwhelmed by the Dragon’s Blood that now runs through his veins. He allows his body to entwine with Daenerys’ body.

He closes his eyes and feels more content than he ever did as Harry Potter. But that feeling is dwarfed when Rhaenys crawls into the blankets next to him and wraps her four-year-old body around him and Daenerys. The amount of love Haeron felt at that moment was more than he felt in his entire life as Harry Potter combined. He vaguely heard his mother and grandmother talking about him and the girls, but the sound of Daenerys breathing and the warm feeling of three dragons pressed together lulls him to sleep. When he awakens, he feels a pair of small legs through his own and the Harry Potter side of his personality wants to jump up and run. Small hands grip the front of the tiny outfit his mother had made for him and more legs lay over his. He opens his eyes slowly, looking around himself and noticing the position he is in. He can't help but feel a little self-conscious at the intimate contact. 

Meanwhile, the Haeron side of his personality and the Dragon’s Blood running through his veins makes it so he can't move his body even if he wanted to. Harry knows that as months pass by, he would become less and less Harry and more and more Haeron until eventually, Harry Potter would only be a memory. 

Haeron couldn’t say that he would miss his Harry Potter personality as he already liked being Haeron far more than he ever did Harry. For one, he has a surviving family that actually _cares_ about him. While the Dursley’s never actually abused him physically, the years of mental and verbal abuse they did to him had forever stunted the growth of Harry Potter. 

Haeron Targaryen was different, however. He had to be to live in this new world. He had to be if he was to ever be king. 

**_—Flashback End—_ **

Haeron blinks his eyes as he exits his memories. Today, he was turning three and for the first time ever he was actually having a party with those he cares about. Haeron was overjoyed when he woke up on his birthday and remembered that he wasn’t alone in the world; and that he had people who loved him. 

Harry knew that it would take years before he was fully accepting of his new identity though surprisingly, he looks forward to when he does. He could tell from just living for three years that he was going to enjoy his life in Westeros. His mother promised him that the King’s Guard would start training him to fight with live steel when he turned eight as she wanted him to be well equipped for when he was old enough to begin his conquest. She also said that when he turned six, he would begin to practice the styles of sword fighting with Ser Arthur using wooden sticks. 

Another thing Haeron was having trouble adjusting to was his diminutive size and strength. It was quite an experience going from being fifteen to being reborn. The strength part wasn’t too bad as his mother still didn’t want him doing much anyway but being so small made it very hard for him to navigate their new home. He often needed his mother to pick him up and carry him to where he wished to go. 

Another problem he possessed for the first few years of his life was being unable to say what he was thinking as his vocal cords took the usual amount of time to develop. As soon as they finished developing, however, Haeron was instantly able to hold intelligent and long conversations as he had the mind of a fifteen-year-old. 

The most important change he had had to do was get reacquainted with his magical core. Every day that passed, Haeron’s magical strength increased. He was already near what he possessed when he was Harry Potter, but he knew he would need to be much stronger to use magic consistently without a focus/wand. 

He also knew that in a world without the magic he possessed, he would be nearly unstoppable once he was capable of using wandless magic consistently and for long periods of time without exhausting. His eventual goal was to be able to cast every spell he ever knew from his time as Harry Potter, including the Killing Curse. Haeron still is not a big fan of killing but he no longer shies away from it. He knew that in the new world he lived in, it was kill or be killed. 

Haeron is interrupted from his thoughts by two pairs of footsteps running up behind him. He soon hears the excited voice of his seven-year-old half-sister and his two and a half-year-old aunt. Haeron had originally struggled to comprehend that he had an aunt younger than he had but that soon passed. It didn’t matter the actual genetic relationship the three shared, as all three loved each other more than life itself. The three began to develop a mental bond that allows them to sense what one another was feeling and always know where the others were. 

Haeron is tackled in a hug by Rhaenys, who being four years older than him is around six inches taller than him. Rhaenys pulls him off of the chair and onto the ground with her at his side saying, “Happy birthday, Haeron!” 

Daenerys soon joins the two, though she had always been the quiet one of the two girls. She walked over to Haeron and lays down next to him on his other side, “Mother and Lya are waiting for you, Haeron. They have a gift of some sort for the three of us.” 

Haeron nods and slowly stands up before reaching down and grabbing the hands of Daenerys and Rhaenys. The three children walk hand in hand through the hallways of Illyrio’s Mansion before coming to the central dining room. 

Haeron opens the door and is shocked to see his mother, grandmother, and the three members of the King’s Guard waiting for him, along with Jamie Lannister. The Lannister’s arrival had shocked them all and they originally assumed the Usurper sent him to kill Haeron. 

**_—Flashback—_ **

The last dragons all sit at the wooden table of the dining room when a knock is heard at the door. The voice of Gerold Hightower says, “Your Grace, I am sorry to interrupt but we have a guest.”

Rhaella stands up with Lyanna at her side as she says, “Bring them in.” 

The King’s Guard nods and walks back out of the room only to return a moment later with a man with golden-blonde hair. The King’s Guard all walk in, swords drawn, before Ser Arthur says, “Milady, this is Jamie Lannister. Son of Tywin Lannister, the man behind the death of Queen Elia and Prince Aegon.” 

Rhaella instantly turns cold as she learns the identity of their guest and she walks forward. “Why are you here, Lannister?” She asks.

Jamie doesn’t flinch and instead walks slowly forward until he stands before Haeron where he then lowers himself onto a knee. “I am here to swear fealty to his grace.”

This time, it is Lyanna who speaks, “And why should we trust you? Maybe you are just here to kill Haeron on the orders of your Usurper king.”

Jamie shakes his head. “I would never serve that whoremongering idiot. He doesn’t deserve to be a lord, let alone King of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Rhaella echos Lyanna and says, “Why should we trust you?” 

Jamie shakes his head. “You shouldn’t, but I swear on my life that I do not mean any harm to any of you.” He turns to face the King’s Guard. “Have any of you three ever seen me break an oath?” He asks them.

The three share a look before Gerold says, “No.” He turns to face Rhaella. “Your Grace, I will vouch for Jamie here. He is a fine young man, even with his father being Tywin Lannister.”

Rhaella calms down at this before saying, “Alright, I will give you a chance to prove your loyalty. But first, I need to ask you something.” Jamie inclines his head. “Who killed my brother?”

Jamie’s eyes widen at the question before he says, “I did, milady.”

Rhaella’s eyes widen and fury crosses her face. She rushes forward to stand right before him. “And why did you do that, Jamie Lannister? Why did you break your oath as a member of the King’s Guard?” 

Jamie slowly backs away from Rhaella before saying, “I know you know that your brother long since dipped into insanity. I did not want to kill him but I saw no other option. He ordered the pyromancers under his control to ignite Wildfire throughout King’s Landing under the impression that he should _burn them all_.” 

Rhaella slowly calms down, understanding, sadness, and resolve on her face. “I understand why you did it, Ser Jamie. My brother was a good person many years ago but he long since stopped being that person. What I do want to know is how you know where we are.”

Jamie nods before turning to face Lyanna. “Lord Stark bid me tell you that he loves you, Lady Lyanna. He is the one who told me where you were after I explained to him what happened.” 

Lyanna’s eyes widen at that before she turns to Rhaella, “If my brother sent him, we can trust him. Ned would never send someone we can’t trust.” 

Rhaella nods, “I agree. You have your chance, Ser Jamie. Do not betray our trust or you will get what House Targaryen is known for. _Fire and Blood._ ”

The man nods in gratitude before saying, “Thank you, your grace.” He turns his gaze to Haeron. “I failed Rhaegar by letting Queen Elia and little Prince Aegon. I swore to myself to never fail House Targaryen again. I will protect each and every one of you to my last breath, especially you, your grace.” He says, looking at Haeron. To Jamie’s shock, the young kid nods his head after his words. 

**_—Flashback End—_ **

The Lannister man had proven his loyalty many times over the two years he had been with the last dragons. He had become a father figure to Haeron, Rhaenys, and Daenerys while always being honest. He never once lied to any of them and he followed every order to the letter. 

Haeron walks up to the table, still hand in hand with Rhaenys and Daenerys. On the table sits a wooden box trimmed with gold. “It is a gift to the three of you from Illyrio,” Lyanna says.

Haeron nods and the three children walk forward. Haeron sits on the wooden bench beside the table with Daenerys to his left and Rhaenys to his right. As one, the three children reach up and lift the lid. Gasps sound throughout the hall at what sits in the box. 

Three large eggs that can only house one creature sit there. The three children lean forward, each feeling a connection to a specific egg. Though through the bond the three share, they can all feel a connection to all three eggs. The egg Daenerys is drawn to is black as the darkest night with red swirls at random on the egg. The egg Rhaenys feels the strongest connection with is a beautiful purple color with black lines streaking across the surface of the egg. But the egg Haeron is drawn to is one color. It appears to be made of solid gold and the surface reflects the sunlight, making it glitter. 

Haeron carefully places his hand on the surface of the egg and the surface of the egg feels very hot. At his sides, Daenerys and Rhaenys do the same thing with their eggs. 

A note sits on the inside of the lid and Haeron reaches down to pick it up. It reads, “ _These are dragon eggs, your grace. The ages have turned them to stone but they will always be beautiful._ ” 

Haeron places the note on the table before returning his focus to the egg before him. His mother walks up behind him and places her hand on the surface of the egg before quickly withdrawing it with a yelp of pain. Haeron looks at his mother in confusion before he realizes what happened. His mother did not have any dragon’s blood so she was incapable of ever controlling a dragon. To test his theory, he calls over his aunt and has her try and touch the egg. She carefully does and she is able to leave her hand on the surface of the egg for a great deal longer before she too has to withdraw her hand. “The three heads of the dragon.” He hears her mutter as she looks at him, Daenerys, and Rhaenys.

Suddenly, Fate’s words come back to him, “ _It is your destiny to bring them back to Westeros_.” She had said in reference to the dragons. 

“ _And that is what I shall do,_ ” Haeron says as he wraps an arm around Daenerys and Rhaenys.


	3. Chapter Three(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M. 

**Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition or other languages).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter. 

**Chapter Three(Life Story)**

**_Location: Illyrio’s Mansion, Pentos. Time: Three years later._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Over the past three years, Haeron has grown even more attuned to the new reality he lives in. Having a family changes him emotionally and makes him far happier than he ever was as Harry Potter. The one thing that puts a dampener on his mood was the fact that Illyrio had just informed them that they would soon need to leave his manse as the Usurper had been informed by a spy as to the existence of Targaryens in Pentos. 

The Targaryens knew it wasn’t Lord Varys as he would never betray their trust and so they knew of only one other man with a far-reaching spy network; Petyr Baelish. From the day they had learned that the Usurper had been clued into their existence, they had been in a constant state of worry. For the previous three years, they had been able to be laxer in the safety measures they took but they had been forced to increase them once more due to possible assassins. 

At the moment, Haeron is walking through the corridors of the mansion towards where he could sense his other parts. He, Daenerys, and Rhaenys have only become closer in the last year and as they grew closer, the strength they possess grows stronger. Now, all three would swear they could sense something within the shells of the dragon eggs they now hold as their most prized possessions. Since Haeron’s third birthday when they had received them, they had placed them in a fire that was constantly stocked to keep the eggs warm as the three had yet to figure out how or even _if_ the eggs could hatch.

Rhaella had begun to tell them stories about the dragons of old, specifically the tales of Aegon the Conquerer and his sister-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya. The three children would listen in rapt attention as Rhaella wove tales of the great dragons the three rode; Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar. From the beginning, the three were fascinated by Balerion and the overwhelming size Rhaella told him to be. Haeron could feel himself get slightly uncomfortable whenever his grandmother mentions that Aegon married his sisters. 

Finally, Haeron comes to a pair of wooden doors guarded by Ser Arthur. He quickly pushes them open, nodding to Ser Arthur as the King’s Guard bows to him, eager to get to Rhaenys and Daenerys who he can sense behind the door.

Inside the room, Daenerys and Rhaenys lie on a bed, wearing thin dresses. Daenerys wears a purple dress that accentuated her eyes even more while Rhaenys wears a dark grey dress that causes her silvery-grey hair to stand out. Haeron quickly looks at the brazier holding the three eggs before looking at Daenerys and Rhaenys.

Haeron smiles at the two as they look up, causing the two to smile back at him. He walks towards them eagerly, saying, “What are you up to, Dany, Rhae?” 

The two smile and gesture to a book they have before them. “Ser Arthur told us that Lord Varys sent it. It is a book about the legends of Old Valyria and the objects and creatures that came with it.” Rhaenys says.

Haeron’s eyes widen. “Anything on dragons yet?” He asks hopefully.

The two girls shake their heads as Dany says, “Arthur just gave it to us. We just opened it. Why don’t you join us?” 

Haeron smile and climbs onto the bed between the two girls as they all turn their focus to the book. The first few chapters are about the Old Valyrian Empire back in its glory days. The first page they see that interests them is about Aegon and his sisters. 

**Aegon I Targaryen was born on Dragonstone to Aerion Targaryen and Valaena Targaryen. Twenty-seven years later, Aegon began his conquest of Westeros with his dragon, Balerion, at his side. Aegon’s two sister-wives Rhaenys and Visenya were also born on Dragonstone to Aerion and Valaena Targaryen and both also possessed dragons. Visenya had a dragon named Vhagar while Rhaenys’ dragon was named Meraxes.**

**The victory Visenya and Aegon successfully conquered all of Westeros, unfortunately, Queen Rhaenys Targaryen was killed along with her dragon during a battle against Dornish forces, leaving Aegon and Visenya to mourn her death. By the time of his death, Aegon was sixty-four years old. He died, leaving Visenya all on her own as a Dowager Queen. Visenya finally died at the age of seventy-three, leaving the throne to the son of Aegon and Rhaenys, Aenys I Targaryen.**

The three children read the new information with great interest before continuing through the book. They skip many chapters until they see an image of a dragon. It reads: 

**Over the years of the Valyrian Empire, many dragons existed. However, none ever came anywhere close to the size and power of King Aegon I Targaryen’s dragon, Balerion. The dragon was said to block out the sun whenever it flew over a battlefield, instilling fear into the enemies of Aegon the Conquerer. Also unique, Balerion supposedly breathed black flames. This massive dragon supposedly lived to be well over two hundred years old before its death.**

**Aegon’s sisters also possessed dragons. Visenya’s dragon Vhagar supposedly was nearly as big as Balerion by the time of the _Dance of Dragons_ , though Balerion is still considered the most powerful dragon to ever live. Stories say that a rider could ride a full-grown horse down the throat of Vhagar by the time the magnificent creature died at the approximate age of 180.**

**Unfortunately, Rhaenys’ dragon Meraxes was never given the opportunity to challenge Balerion’s size and power as it and Rhaenys were killed by a Dornish Scorpion during one of Rhaenys’ attempts to aid the conquest of Westeros. Meraxes was said to have silver scales and piercing golden eyes. At its death, Meraxes was larger than Vhagar but was still dwarfed by Balerion.**

Haeron, Rhaenys, and Daenerys all read the passage carefully as to not forget anything, before turning to face one another. They all are wide-eyed at all of the information that even former Queen Rhaella Targaryen didn’t possess. Haeron reaches down and slowly turns the page. The title of the next page is _The Hatching of Dragons_ , causing the three to gasp in shock and amazement. This emotion soon turns to disappointment as they notice that the page is blank. No sign of anything on the page, not even a drop of ink. 

Rhae and Dany sigh in disappointment but Haeron is not so quick to give up. Over the past three years, he had grown reacquainted with his magical core to the point where he could use most basic spells. Ignoring the confused looks Dany and Rhae give him, he places his palms on the book and mutters, “ _Aparecium_.” 

To Haeron’s disappointment, once more nothing happens. The page remains blank and now he will have to explain to Dany and Rhae what he just tried to do. Over the previous three years, Haeron had done his best to not reveal his powers to anyone who he couldn’t trust. He had, of course, told Daenerys and Rhaenys as soon as the three were old enough to confer vocally. 

He turns to look at the two girls and they are wearing their usual looks of awe and pride at his attempt at magic. “What was that, Hae?” Rhaenys asks.

Haeron says, “It was a revealing spell. It should have revealed anything that was hidden.”

Rhaenys nods in understanding as Daenerys asks a question Haeron has been dreading answering. “You have never told us how you know this magic stuff, Hae. How do you know the incantations to use the spells.”

Haeron sighs. “There is something I need to tell both of you. I have wanted to tell you this for years. No one knows this, not even my mother.”

The two silver-haired girls move closer to him and settle themselves at his sides, curiosity clear on their faces. “I…First I need to ask both of you to not interrupt. I promise I will answer any questions you have once I finish explaining myself.”

The two girls nod and Haeron begins. “Okay, the simple way to put it is that this is not my first life.”

The two girls gasp and Dany goes to ask a question but gets cut off by Haeron saying. “Let me finish.”

Dany nods and Haeron continues. “I lived in a completely different reality. I am not certain how to best explain my previous life, so please, just let me talk.”

Haeron takes a deep breath and then begins, “Okay, so on this other world, I was born as Harry James Potter to James Potter and Lily Potter. When I was a little over a year old, an evil man invaded our home with the purpose of killing me with magic. He killed my mother and father and then turned his magic on me. For some reason, his magic rebounded off of me and back at him, effectively destroying his body. 

“I was sent to live with my mother’s sister and her husband. They treated me far from well and while it never went as far as beatings, I was starved, mentally abused, and was often bullied by their son, Dudley. I fact, on multiple occasions, Dudley and his group of friends would beat me up to the point where I couldn’t walk. I would drag myself back to the house and my aunt and uncle would get upset with me for ‘getting myself beaten up for no reason.’ I originally tried to tell them that it was Dudley that was beating me up but they never believed that their ‘precious Dudders’ was capable of doing such a thing.’ “

“Finally, a few days before my eleventh birthday, I received a letter. The letter disclosed to me that I was a wizard and invited me to a school of magic called Hogwarts. I eagerly agreed to join the school and arrived where I needed to be on time. I was lead through a magical barrier onto a platform where a method of transportation that does not exist on this world waited. I boarded it and that is where I met my future best friends Ron and Hermione.”

“We arrived at the school and were given ‘houses’ that matched our traits. I was put into a house called Gryffindor, along with Ron and Hermione. We went about our school year normally until some things began to happen. First, we walked into a room that contained a massive three-headed dog called a Cerberus. Next, a giant creature called a troll was let into the school and nearly killed Hermione. We assumed that a man named Snape had something to do with it as we noticed a gash on his leg after that night. Eventually, we made our way past the Cerberus and into a series of trials that we had to get past. Ron helped defeat a giant chess board but got injured in the process leading Hermione to stay with him and send me ahead alone. When I reached the center of the trials, one of my teachers, Professor Quirrell was waiting for me, looking at a mirror. He ordered me to give him the Sorcerer’s Stone, a stone capable of giving out immortality to those who drink the nectar derived from it. I, of course, denied him and he attacked me with the intent to force me to give him what he wanted. It turned out that the very same man that killed my parents was the one controlling the professor. Due to some strange magic, the man was unable to touch me and ended up disintegrating into dust due to touching me.”

“That was just year one, now I need to try and describe year two to you two,” Haeron says as Rhaenys and Daenerys hold him in a tight embrace.

“Okay, for my second year of school, my friend Ron and I were unable to get through a magical barrier and were stranded with no way to get to school. I will admit that what we did next was very poorly thought out. We stole a transport that Ron’s dad had enchanted to fly and drove it to school. We crashed into a magical tree and were nearly killed by it. As the year went by, students and other creatures began to turn up petrified with no one knowing what was causing it. I began to hear voices that no one else could hear. Ron and I were one day horrified to discover that Hermione was one of those who was petrified. We went to visit a friend of ours named Hagrid as he was arrested on suspicions of being the culprit. He told us to ‘follow the spiders’ and that is what we did. We met a massive spider named Aragog who gave us more clues as to what was causing the petrifications.”

Haeron pauses, taking a deep breath with Dany and Rhae comfortingly rubbing his back. “We returned to the school and visited Hermione in the medical wing of the school. We found a piece of paper in her hand about a massive reptilian creature called a Basilisk. I could hear it because I can speak the language of snakes, Parseltongue. Eventually, Ron’s sister was taken into a place called the Chamber of Secrets, the home of the Basilisk. Ron and I ventured into the chamber with an idiot professor named Gilderoy Lockheart. Ron and Lockheart were incapacitated behind a pile of stones so I ventured on alone. I came across a boy who I recognized from a diary I found earlier in the year. I begged him to help me but that is when he revealed to me a terrible fact. Once more, the man who killed my parents stood before me. He sent the Basilisk after me but I was able to defeat it, though a fang from the Basilisk lodged itself in my arm, injecting me with its lethal poison. I pulled out the fang and stabbed the diary that was in Ron’s sister Ginny’s possession, destroying the evil man, Tom Riddle, once more. I would have died were it not for a phoenix belonging to _Albus Dumbledore_.” Haeron pauses after saying Dumbledore’s name for the first time since he learned the truth.

“Phoenixes have healing tears and this phoenix used them to heal me.” Haeron takes a deep breath once more. “Alright, now on to my third year. The third-year was different from the previous two as Tom Riddle was never truly around me this year. Instead, a few days before I would head to Hogwarts, I was warned by Ron’s father that a man named _Sirius Black_ had escaped the Wizard Prison Azkaban, something that had never been done before. I learned later in the year that the man was my godfather and supposedly was the one who betrayed my parents to Tom Riddle. I, of course, was very upset by this fact and ended up confronting him. He and another friend of my parents informed me that Sirius was innocent and that it was a man who was long thought to be dead, Peter Pettigrew, who was the true traitor. Peter was in our grasp as he possessed the power to change into an animal. He was a rat that belonged to Ron. When Sirius and the other man, Remus, revealed Peter’s true form, they wanted to kill him. I stopped them, saying that my parents wouldn’t want their best friends to become killers.” 

“Later that night, Remus, was forced by the moon to turn into a monstrous creature called a Werewolf. My godfather Sirius held off Remus while Hermione, Ron, and escaped. Sirius was captured by Snape and the government called the Ministry of Magic prepared to execute him. _Professor Dumbledore_ gave Hermione advice on how to travel through time and we did it, successfully saving Sirius.”

“My fourth year was one of the hardest of my previous life. The year started out normally enough; I went to school with my friends and we learned that a legendary tournament called the Tri-Wizard Tournament was set to take place at Hogwarts that year. The tournament was notorious for its high death count and so the one in charge of the tournament added an age limit so that no one under the age of seventeen was forbidden from entering. We were informed that two other magical schools would be arriving at Hogwarts to participate in this tournament. When the other two schools arrived, they used a magical goblet to pick who the participants would be. My name came out of the cup and the magical goblet forced me to compete or else I would lose my magic. Nearly everyone at Hogwarts believed I did it solely for more attention, including Ron and Hermione. I was left to fend for myself with the whole school rooting against me. The first task…” 

Harry hesitates, “The first task was for me to acquire a faux egg from a dragon.”

Both Rhaenys and Daenerys gasp in shock. “A dragon? How big was it? What color was it?” Rhaenys asks.

Haeron chuckles, “I am sorry to ruin your expectations but the dragons on my old world were not nearly as powerful as the ones here. It was maybe twenty feet long and ten feet tall. It was a grey color and it was vicious. It breathed fire too. The only reason I survived was because of my skills at flying a broom.”

This time it is Daenerys who questions him, “Flying a broom? I am sorry, what!? Why would you be good at flying a cleaning tool?” 

Haeron chuckles, “It’s a long story. All that matters is that I survived the first task. After that, Ron and Hermione both came crawling back to me, with Ron doing nothing as far as apologies go. Hermione was apologetic but it wasn’t what it should have been. I accepted them back because they were the only friends I ever possessed and I didn’t want to lose them even if I never trusted them the same way again. The second task of the tournament was for me to recover something I lost from a lake. With a boy named Neville’s help, I discovered a plant that would allow me to breathe underwater. I successfully rescued Ron from the lake and even rescued another champion’s hostage as well.”

Dany and Rhae both smile at how heroic Haeron was. “The third task wasn’t for a few months after the second and they gave the champions plenty of time to prepare. The task was a maze we had to navigate. More than that, there were dangerous creatures and trials you had to pass in the maze. A boy named Cedric Diggory and I reached the center of the maze together and grabbed the Tri-Wizard cup at the same time. Instead of taking us back to the start like it was supposed to, it teleported us to a graveyard.”

Rhaenys interrupts him again, “I am sorry to interrupt again, Hae. You could teleport in your world?” She asks incredulously.

Haeron smirks. “Yes. And I will be able to do it here soon.” 

The shocked expressions Dany and Rhae give him make Haeron laugh before he turns serious once more. “I will talk more about what magic is capable of once I finish my story and I will answer and questions you may have.” Haeron pauses to collect his thoughts once more. “Okay, so we arrived in the graveyard and were met by Peter Pettigrew. He killed Cedric on Tom Riddle’s orders and trapped me on the tomb of Tom Riddle’s father. Then he performed a ritual involving my blood that resurrected Tom to his full self. He then forced me to engage in a magical duel with him. I, of course, was entirely outclassed. Out of sheer luck, I was able to escape with Cedric’s body using the cup to teleport away. I arrived back at Hogwarts and was lead away by a man I believed I could trust. Instead, I figured out that the man I thought I could trust worked for Tom Riddle and was using a magical potion to change his true appearance. He tried to kill me but was stopped by _Dumbledore_.”

Once more, Haeron takes a deep breath after saying Dumbledore’s name. “I once more returned home to the Dursley’s and was forced to endure their abuse until the next school year began. When it finally did and I arrived at school, I discovered that not only was Dumbledore ignoring me but also I was believed to be a liar for telling people Tom Riddle was alive. To make matters worse, the Ministry of Magic inserted a teacher into Hogwarts who proved to it was possible to crueler than Tom Riddle. Her name was Dolores Umbridge and she was manipulative, a control freak, and most of all, she did not care about any authority but her own. She added so many rules to Hogwarts that it was hard to breathe without breaking one. She was also a terrible teacher academically which forced me to begin teaching my fellow students. I created a group which Ron’s sister Ginny named _Dumbledore’s Army,_ D.A. for short. We met in secret and slowly improved until we were caught by Umbridge where we were escorted to her office.” 

Haeron pauses, taking a deep breath. “Then, she threatened to curse me to make me tell her what she wanted to know. I refused, but Hermione being the quick thinker she was, tricked Umbridge into thinking Dumbledore had a secret weapon hidden in the woods. We lead her there where she was taken by men with horse bodies. We returned to the castle and I had a vision of my godfather, Sirius, being tortured by Tom in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. I, of course, didn’t stop to think about the possibility that it was just a ploy by Tom Riddle to trick me into coming to him. We arrived and were waylaid by some of Tom’s followers after we got to where I saw Sirius. He was of course not there and we engaged in battle with Tom’s _Death Eaters_ as they were called. We were forced into a room containing an artifact that the Ministry used for executing people called the Veil. The _Death Eaters_ attack us once more and my godfather Sirius was killed by a woman named Bellatrix. I soon after killed her—.”

Haeron is cut off by Rhaenys, “Wait, _you_ killed someone, Hae? I can’t picture you killing someone.”

Haeron nods his head grimly, “I never would have thought I would either. But the first thing you need to remember is that killing is only to be done as a last resort. The reason I killed Bellatrix was that she had just killed my godfather and I let rage dictate my actions. Now I know better than that and won’t let that happen. The only reason I will kill someone is both to protect my family and if it aids our ultimate goal to reclaim the Seven Kingdoms.” Haeron pauses, allowing Rhae and Dany to absorb his words before continuing. “Okay, after killing Bellatrix, Tom Riddle showed up. He began to talk to me until Dumbledore arrived. The two fought but Dumbledore was unable to prevent Tom from forcing his way into my mind. After that, Tom forced me in front of The Veil and shoved me through it.”

Dany and Rhae both wrap their arms around Haeron, the idea that he died scaring them. Haeron gives them a reassuring smile before saying, “I am not done with my life story and what happens next is the craziest thing yet.” The two girls untangle themselves from Haeron and sit at his side, taking a hand each. “After I was pushed through The Veil, I met the embodiments of Death and Fate.”

Both girls gasp in shock and horror, “Y-yo-you met Death _and_ Fate?” Daenerys asks. 

Haeron nods, “Yes I did. They are the ones who gave me this opportunity to live again. I originally considered reliving my old life while keeping my memories but my desire to try something new quickly changed that. Also, my trust of those I thought to be my friends was shaken too badly for me to have any desire to live another life around them.” Haeron smiles now. “And I am glad. Choosing to have a new life was the right choice as it is how I met you two. I can’t imagine life without you two anymore.” 

Both Rhaenys and Daenerys smile at that and cuddle against him, “Neither can I, Hae. I love the two of you more than I thought was possible. I never thought I would love anyone more than I do grandma Rhaella but I do.” Rhaenys says. 

Daenerys nods her head. “Yes. I agree. I love both of you and I am very glad that you are here, Hae. I look forward to when we are old enough to begin our conquest and I pray that we will have dragons flying above us.”

The three Targaryens all nod at that before Rhaenys says, “Okay, now you promised to tell us more about what magic is capable of, along with answering questions for us.”

Haeron nods, “Of course. I will never keep secrets from the two of you.”

Haeron stands up and walks over to a desk pressed against one wall. He picks up a book and walks back over to the bed. He remains standing and gestures for Dany and Rhae to stand too. “Alright, magic is something that can be used in a nearly infinite number of ways. The main thing it takes to control it is intent. This is true with all magic as if you ever want to achieve wordless casting or casting without a wand, you must first master casting with a wand and master focusing your intent. Some wizards just can’t cast magic wandlessly, whether it’s because of a lack of power or a lack of knowledge depends on the situation.”

Haeron pauses and says, “The first spell I was ever taught at Hogwarts was a levitation charm. As I was still young, I was ignorant of silent and wandless casting and thus I learned through the use of the incantation. _Wingardium Leviosa_ was the enchantment.” Haeron smiles fondly at the memory of Hermione correcting Ron’s butchered pronunciation.

He snaps out of memories and sees Dany and Rhae looking at him worriedly. “Right, sorry. I got lost in old memories. Back to the lesson. Okay, the first thing I am going to say is that I believe I can teach both of you to control magic to some degree as you both possess ancient, powerful blood. Blood is a very important part of magic. Tom Riddle successfully used it to bring his old body back and I bel—.” Haeron trails off. 

Dany and Rhae both look at him worriedly. “Hae? Hae, are you okay?” Dany asks concerned. 

Haeron turns to the two girls, a slow smile appearing on his face. “My dear Dany. What is the motto of our house?” He asks.

Dany looks confused and says, “Fire and Blood…why?” 

Haeron smirks and looks at Rhaenys to see that she has begun to smile too. Seeing Daenerys still confused, Haeron says, “Daenerys, what if the motto of our house is more than just a motto. What is the secret to hatching dragons? It would make sense! Blood is a major part of all magic and dragons are magical creatures. Combine that with fire which the dragons are known to breathe fire and we might actually be able to hatch them!”

Daenerys’ eyes widen before hope floods through them. Daenerys always held out hope that they would be able to hatch the eggs and the idea that they might actually be able to made her very excited. 

“Okay, but how would we manage that? I guarantee that mother and Lya wouldn’t appreciate us starting a fire and cutting ourselves to get blood.” Daenerys asks.

Haeron smirks again, “I have yet to fully explain the capabilities of magic and so I will now. Magic can do almost anything except for bringing back the dead the same way they were alive. Magic can start fires and summon water. It can create light and summon darkness. It can create life and cause death. The sky is the roof when it comes to magic, actually. In fact, just so I don’t have to explain it later, there is actually a spell that if someone gets hit by it, they die instantly and painlessly. I am about to tell you the incantation under the idea that you will not repeat it until after I have tried to awaken the magic inside the two of you and it is an emergency. The incantation is _Avada Kedavra_.” Haeron says quietly. 

The two girls look at him, both of them sensing the memories the incantation triggered for Haeron. Dany runs her small right hand down Haeron’s back in a comforting motion and the two wait for him to collect himself. “Alright, I am okay. That spell…it triggered memories for me. Memories I wish I could make go away. Now, back to my lesson.”

Haeron pauses and closes his eyes, saying, “I want to try something really quick. I may need the two of you to help me once I am done because I will probably be exhausted.”

The two nod, confused looks on their faces. Haeron concentrates and with a loud pop, he appears across the room. Dany and Rhae gasp at the display of magic and rush to his side as he collapses. “That was amazing, Hae!” Rhaenys exclaims with Daenerys nodding in agreement. 

Haeron grunts as he stands up. “And that is another point I need to mention. A person’s magic is dependent on a person’s magical core. In my other world, I was born into a very powerful family. I believe that combining my magic from that family with the magic that runs through Targaryen blood will make me even stronger. The way to strengthen your magical core is just to constantly use it. Like a muscle, the more you use it, the stronger it gets.”

Rhaenys nods in understanding, “That makes sense. Now you said you were going to attempt to free our power.” She says, gesturing at herself and Dany. 

Haeron nods and smiles, “Of course. As much as I wish it wasn’t true, for our conquest were are going to have to divide and conquer. I need to know that the two of you can defend yourself. I am also going to request the Lord Commander that when he begins training me, he begins training both of you too.”

The two girls smile softly at Haeron. “You are going to make a fantastic king, Hae,” Daenerys says. She then smiles slowly. “Now, can we return our focus to hatching those dragons?” She asks, pointing at the eggs in the brazier. 

Haeron nods, “Yes, let us begin planning to attempt to hatch them. We will need to somehow keep the adults from knowing about a large fire. There are spells that could do that but I am not strong enough to cast them without a wand yet. If we waited a few years I would be strong enough but I am pretty sure we want the dragons to hatch as soon as possible so they can begin to grow.”

The three fall silent as they discuss what to do about hatching the eggs before Haeron says, “I have an idea. Instead of me casting the spells to prevent the adults from finding us, I am going to begin to set up a Ward system that will send them away if they try and enter them.” 

The two girls look at him, “And where are you going to set up these…what did you call them? Wards?” Rhaenys asks.

Haeron smiles, “Why, in this room of course. I will set up the wards put won’t activate them until…” He trails off, his smile falling off of his face. “Damn it, never mind.” He says with a sigh.

He turns to Rhae and Dany, “We seem to have forgotten that we are leaving Pentos soon. It would make no sense for me to waste my magic just for us to leave before we can do anything.”

The two girls frown at that. “Then what will we do?” Daenerys asks, disappointment clear in her voice. 

Haeron sighs, “I guess we will have to wait until we reach our new home before attempting to hatch them.”

Rhaenys and Daenerys both sigh at that too. “Well, at least we think we have an idea as to how to hatch them,” Daenerys says. 

Haeron nods, “That is true. Once we reach wherever it is that we are going we can begin preparations to hatch them. For now, let us go to sleep. It is late and we have a long day tomorrow.”

The two girls nod and both climb across the bed and under the sheets. Haeron joins them, placing himself between the two. “Avy jorrāelan (I love you),” Haeron says as the three children close their eyes to sleep. 

In unison, both girls say, “Avy jorrāelan tolī (I love you too).”

With that, the three young dragons drift off to sleep with all of them thinking about the return of the dragons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was more of an informative chapter for Daenerys and Rhaenys. There will be more action next chapter. Also, as I said before, the only GoT knowledge I possess is that of the shows. I have read Fire & Blood but that is the only GRRM book I have read.


	4. Chapter Four(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated Explicit. 

**Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition or other languages).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter. 

**Chapter Four(A New Home)**

**A/N. The rating has been changed to Explicit due to content towards the end of the chapter and future content to come.**

**_Location: Illyrio’s Mansion, Pentos. Time: Continuation._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron blinks his eyes open slowly, sleep clouding his vision. He feels a rustle at his side and looks to see Rhaenys stretch her arms, blinking her eyes to clear her vision. 

Haeron smiles at her, “Are you ready for our journey, Rhae?” He asks.

The young girl smiles at him, though nervousness is clear in her expression. “Yes. I am ready, Hae. It may be nice to be in a new environment.”

Haeron nods, “I agree. And…we can hatch our dragons.” 

Rhaenys smiles at that, “Yes, that too.” She agrees.

The two lay in silence, waiting for Daenerys to wake up. When she finally does, the three children get out of bed and walk over to their dresser that contains their clothes. 

Haeron puts on a simple black cloak, making sure to hide all of his silver hair under a hood. He can’t hide his purple eyes but they are much easier to excuse as they are a common Blackfyre trait. Daenerys does the same, covering her hair in a silky, thin, black fabric. Rhaenys does not have to hide any of her features as she possesses the traditional Dornish appearance with Blackfyre eyes. 

The three children walk over to the dragon eggs and place their hands in the fire, each picking up the egg that called to them. They learned years ago that fire and heat did not bother them. Haeron smiles as he remembers how they discovered it. 

**_—Flashback—_ **

Haeron walks into his chambers as Rhaenys and Daenerys follow close behind. The servant just informed them that a hot bath had been prepared for them and was awaiting them in their quarters. 

The three children smile when they see the large square-shaped bath filled with steaming water. The bath overlooks the city of Pentos but is high enough up that no one can see in. 

The three children prepare to get into the bath and Haeron places his hand in the water, reveling in the feel of the warm water on his skin. He begins to remove his clothes but before he does, the servant says quickly, “The water is too hot, your grace.”

Haeron frowns and places his hand in the water, “Really? It doesn’t feel very hot.”

Daenerys and Rhaenys nod as they remove their hands and Daenerys says, “Yes. I agree with Haeron. It doesn’t feel hot to me.”

Rhaenys nods in agreement. The servant frowns before walking forward and placing her hand in the water. She yelps and quickly removes her hand. Haeron walks over to her and is shocked to see the servant’s hand is red and swelling. 

Haeron gently holds the servant's wrist, shock and confusion on his face. He says, “You are dismissed. Go to a healer and get your hand checked.” 

The servant nods and leaves the room. “I know mother and grandmother have talked about having ‘the blood of the dragon,’ and I know we could touch the eggs but I never imagined we were resistant to heat.”

Rhaenys nods. “What does this mean? Do you think we are resistant to fire too?” 

Haeron looks thoughtful, “It is quite possible.” 

Daenerys stands from the side of the bath and walks over to a candle. Haeron’s eyes widen as she shoves her hand into the flame. 

Haeron rushes to her side with Rhaenys but they stop when they see that Daenerys is unharmed and smiling. “Hae, Rhae; the fire does not hurt. If anything, it tickles my skin.”

Haeron slowly places his hand beneath Dany’s in the flame, bracing himself for pain. He opens his eyes and looks in shock at his hand as the tendrils of orange flame brush against his pale skin. 

Rhaenys joins Daenerys and Haeron and carefully places her hand in the flames too. All three children laugh when they realize that they are immune to fire. 

**_—Flashback End—_ **

Haeron carries his egg to a wooden chest and places it inside with Dany and Rhaenys doing the same thing. Haeron closes the lid and locks it with a small key. 

He walks to the door and knocks, calling, “Ser Arthur. We are ready. Come get the chest.”

The doors open and See Arthur walks in, golden armor hidden beneath a brown cloak. He walks over to the chest and picks it up. He turns to Haeron and says, “Your Grace, the Lady Lyanna is waiting for you along with Queen Rhaella in the dining hall. They wish for you three to eat a quick meal before we leave Pentos as we don’t know what to expect on the journey.”

Haeron nods and says, “Alright. Thank you, Ser Arthur.”

He walks out of the door with Daenerys and Rhaenys following close behind him. 

The three walk side by side through the decorated corridors of Illyrio’s Mansion, taking in the building for the last time. 

When they reach the dining hall, Ser Gerold opens the door for them, nodding in greeting. 

They walk in and are greeted by the sight of Lyanna and Rhaella sitting at one end of the table with a wide variety of breakfast foods laid out before them. The two women smile when they see the children enter and gesture for Haeron, Rhaenys, and Daenerys to join them. 

When the three reach the two women, Lyanna says, “Please eat, children. We have a long journey ahead of us if we are to reach Meereen. We have a contact there who is willing to shelter us in an isolated setting for a few years. He is a Targaryen loyalist and is renowned for his fighting skills.”

Haeron nods his head. “What is the man’s name?” He asks.

Lyanna smiles and says, “His name is Jon Connington.”

Haeron’s eyes widen and he asks, “Wait, didn’t Jon Connington die years ago after drinking himself to death?” 

This time it is Rhaella who responds, “No. He faked his own death at my command so he would be a last resort to our cause. He will never betray us and has procured us a place where we can regain our strength before joining the Game of Thrones for Haeron’s rightful crown.” 

Haeron nods at the information before asking, “I understand, mother.” He turns to look at Dany and Rhae. “Mother, grandmother; Rhaenys, Daenerys, and I have a plan we are going to put into action once we reach Meereen.”

Lyanna and Rhaella both look at the children, curiosity plain on their faces. “What is this plan?” Lyanna asks. 

Haeron smiles before gesturing to Daenerys to allow her to say it. Daenerys smiles at Haeron and steps forward. “We know how to hatch the dragons. Or at least we think we do,” she says.

Lyanna and Rhaella both look shocked before sharing a look, “And what does the process of birthing a dragon entitle?” Rhaella asks.

The three children share a look and Haeron says, “Grandmother, what are the words of our house?” He asks, a sly grin on his face. 

Rhaella looks confused as she says, “Fire and Blood, why?”

Haeron turns and smiles at his aunt. “Dany, I believe you are the one who desires the dragons the most. You may explain the process of rebirthing them.”

Daenerys smiles brightly at her nephew before turning to her mother, “Mother, our house motto has been the key to hatching dragons all these years. The secret to bringing back the most powerful creatures to ever walk this Earth lies in the motto of House Targaryen.”

Rhaella and Lyanna share a look, “Alright, how do you hatch dragons?” 

Haeron steps forward, placing an arm around Daenerys’ shoulders as he says, “I do not believe that you will like how they are hatched but don’t worry, no harm will come to the three of us.”

Lyanna gives her son a look, “That’s all well and good, son, but you still haven’t told us what hatching dragons will require you three to do.”

Rhaenys is the one who answers, “Mother, the process to hatch dragons requires, as our motto says, Fire and Blood.”

Rhaella and Lyanna share a look again before saying, “You three keep saying it requires blood. Whose blood are you talking about?”

Haeron answers his mother, “Our blood, mother. A few drops of it.” 

Lyanna’s eyes widen, “No. Absolutely not. I forbid it.”

Haeron looks at his mother, a cold look appearing on his face. “I am sorry, mother. I am going through with the process and as your king, you cannot stop me. Dany, Rhae, and I are going to bring dragons back into this world and I will not be stopped by your irrational fear that losing a few drops of blood will harm us.”

Internally, Haeron is shocked at his own words. “ _What has gotten into me? I never spoke like that to anyone in my previous life and now I am talking like that to my mother?! Is it a side effect of the dragon’s blood in my veins? Maybe that is it. The dragon’s blood does not want to be stopped from rebirthing dragons into this world.”_

Lyanna’s eyes widen as do Rhaella’s at the tone of voice Haeron uses. “You are correct, grandson. We cannot stop you if you truly wish to go through with this. We can only advise you against it.” Rhaella steps forward, silver hair illuminating in a stream of sunlight through an open window. “Please, grandson. Reconsider this plan. At least until you are older. You are still at risk of blood loss and infection. You are only six.”

Haeron sighs, “I am sorry mother, grandmother, but nothing will change my mind about going through with this. We need the dragons if I am ever to get my throne back from the Usurper. I appreciate your concerns and will always consider your counsel but on this matter my mind is already made. Once we arrive in Meereen, Daenerys, Rhaenys, and I will finalize the preparations for this process and we will hatch our dragons.”

Both Lyanna and Rhaella sigh as they realize that they cannot change the young king’s mind. “Alright,” Lyanna says, though there is still a great deal of worry in her voice. “Now eat, children. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

The three children grab plates and pick food to eat, all three of them excited for the future to come. 

**_Location: Winterfell, Westeros. Time: Continuation._ **

**——Eddard Stark POV——**

Eddard Stark walks through the corridors of Winterfell having just returned from a hunt. His clothes are tattered and muddy but he doesn’t bother changing as he rushes into his wife’s chambers. His wife lies on the bed, a wet nurse dutifully taking care of her as her body spasms. Ned walks over to his wife’s side and gently takes her shaking hand into his own. 

Ned Stark smiles as he holds his lady wife’s hand as she squeezes it, a pained scream leaving her parched lips. “Be strong, Cat. You are almost done.” Ned says.

The woman goes to respond but is interrupted by another contraction wracking her body with pain. Catelyn Tully-Stark’s grip on Ned’s hand tightens to the point where Ned’s hand turns white from a loss of blood flow until, finally, the wet nurse walks over to him and hands him a bundle of blankets. 

Ned smiles down at his newest child. He leans down and gently hands the bundle to his wife who smiles at the child. “What are we going to name her, Ned?” Catelyn asks. 

Ned smiles at her, “I would like to name her Arya. Arya Stark of Winterfell.”

Cat smiles at the name and nods her head, “A good, strong name,” she says, exhaustion and pain still clear in her voice. 

Ned leans down and presses a quick kiss to his wife’s forehead, “Get some rest, Cat. Arya will be in good hands with Septa Mordane while you rest.”

Catelyn nods tiredly and hands Arya back to Ned. Her eyes close and her breathing steadies. Ned smiles at his wife one last time before turning and walking out of the room with Arya in his arms. On the other side of the door, Septa Mordane stands waiting, with Robb and Sansa at her side. “Robb, Sansa, meet your new sister, Arya of House Stark,” Ned says as he lowers himself onto a knee to give his children a better look at the newborn.

Ned smiles down at his three children, thinking to himself, “ _I wish you could see me now, Lya. I miss you. I hope you and young Haeron are well and safe. I hope Jamie is protecting you as he should._ ”

After a few moments, Ned stands back up, handing the baby to the Septa. The Septa sees the look he gives his new daughter and says, “She is a beautiful, strong babe, Lord Stark. I will take her to the nursery.”

Ned nods and turns to look at his other children. Robb already has a handsome face and a strong build while Sansa’s red hair separates her from the other children. 

“Robb, Sansa, I expect both of you to take good care of your new sister,” Ned says.

Both children eagerly nod, “Of course we will, father.” Robb says with Sansa nodding in agreement. 

Ned smiles and says, “Follow the Septa,” he tells his kids.

Robb and Sansa nod and follow after the Septa. 

Ned smiles softly and walks away, heading for the courtyard. Before he can get there, he is interrupted by one of his bannermen handing him a rolled-up message. “Lord Stark, a raven has arrived from King’s Landing.”

Ned takes the letter and walks into his office that overlooks the training ground. He unravels it and reads:

_Dear Lord Eddard Stark,_

_I need you, Ned. Lord Baelish has informed me that some Targaryens may still survive. He says his sources have told him that there are rumors of Targaryens in Pentos. I want to mobilize the Royal Navy and sail for Pentos but my advisers and Jon Arryn are against that plan. We are instead going to discuss alternative ways to deal with the incest-ridden Targaryen fuckers. They cannot be allowed to challenge my power._

_I trust you more than anyone, Ned. I cannot do this alone. We took care of the Targaryens once, we can do it again. The North must stand united with the crown if we are to rid the world of the twisted, incest-ridden, dragon-spawn. We must avenge Lyanna. I slammed my hammer through the man who stole Lyanna from me and I will make sure that that can never happen again. The dragon-spawn must be eradicated, Ned. We cannot allow a Mad King to rise once more._

_I request that you travel to King’s Landing where we can discuss a plan to free the world from the terror that is the dragon-spawn. You may bring your family if you so desire. I am sure your Lady Wife Catelyn would love to return to the south for a visit._

_From,_

_Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm._

Ned sighs, raising a gloved hand to rub the sweat from his brow. “ _Robert is not the man I knew him to be. If Jon Arryn is to be believed, Robert is losing himself in his drink and whores, entirely forgetting to do anything about running his kingdom. I do not wish to travel south but not doing go would raise suspicions of me with the other lords. I cannot allow the north to be perceived as a threat. The Lannisters are near enough to claiming the Iron Throne and I will not allow them to solidify that claim._ ”

Ned turns and walks out of his office and through the stone corridors of Winterfell until he reaches the training yard. He hears the clashing of steel blades and follows the sound. He sees Rodrik Cassel, standing to the side of the training yard, calling out instructions to two young men in the center of the yard. 

Ned watches as the two young men dance around each other, swords occasionally clashing together.

Ned walks over to his side and says, “Ser Rodrik, a word if you please.”

The man nods, “Of course, Lord Stark.” The man turns to the two men in the yard. “Stop. Await my return by working on your forms,” he orders. 

Ser Rodrik gestures for Ned to follow him and leads him into a small wooden building next to the training yard. “What can I do for you, Lord Stark?” He asks.

Ned hands the man the letter, awaiting a reaction. After the man finishes reading, he hands the letter back to Lord Stark. “What do you need, Lord Stark?” He asks.

Ned sighs, “Advice, Ser Rodrik. I see no other choice but to go south. Do you see an alternative?” 

The Master-at-Arms of Winterfell sighs, “I am sorry, Lord Stark. As I see it, turning down this _invitation_ would not be perceived well. I see no other option but for you to travel south. Although I highly suggest you do not bring your family to King’s Landing as it is far too dangerous. Many of the southerners would try to use them against you.”

Ned nods his head, “Thank you, Ser Rodrik. You may return to the yard.”

The man bows his head respectfully to Ned and walks away. 

Ned sighs and presses his palm to his forehead. “ _I hate that Robert is drawing me back into this conflict. There is no way I will condone him trying to kill Haeron and Lya. They are my blood and I will not allow them to be harmed. I don’t see any other choice than to go south. If I ignore Robert’s ‘invitation’ he may very well decide to travel here to Winterfell in an attempt to garner my aid._ ”

Ned turns and walks back towards the Winterfell keep, boots crunching in the snow. He walks through the stone corridors until he reaches Septa Mordane’s nursery room. 

He hears the sound of giggling coming from the other side of the door. He slowly opens the door, easing his way into the room. 

The room is plain. The banner of House Stark hangs on one wall while a hearth with a glowing fire is visible against one wall. 

Ned smiles at what he sees. Sansa sits with the Septa, watching her newborn sister sleep. Robb looks at the baby too, curiosity clear in his eyes. 

When Ned enters, Robb and Sansa run over to him as the Septa smiles at him from. “How is she?” 

The Septa smiles at Ned, “Wonderful, Lord Stark. She is such a healthy babe.”

Ned smiles and walks forward, holding out his hands for the Septa to hand the baby to him. The Septa slowly hands the small bundle of blankets to Ned, being careful not to wake the newborn. 

Ned smiles sadly at his new daughter for a moment and places a gentle kiss on her tiny forehead. 

He gently hands the baby back to the Septa and turns to Robb and Sansa. “Come here, children.”

Robb and Sansa both walk over to their father and he pulls them into a tight hug. “I love you Robb, Sansa. Don’t ever forget that.”

Both children pull back from the embrace, confusion shining in their eyes. “What is wrong, father? Where are you going?” Robb asks.

Ned smiles down at his young son, “The king has summoned me south. I will be leaving for King’s Landing tonight.”

Sansa’s young face splits into a smile as she tugs on her father’s arm. “Can I go, father? Can I come with you?” She asks eagerly.

Ned shakes his head, sadness flowing through him at the look of disappointment on her face. “It is not safe for you, Sansa. I would not be able to live if something happened to you.” He smiles. “Besides, you need to help take care of your new sister. And I am sure your mother will need help after giving birth.”

“Why have you been summoned, father?” Robb asks.

Ned looks at his son, debating on what to tell him. “The king has heard word of a new threat and seeks my advice as to how to deal with it,” Ned says, praying his son doesn’t question as to the specifics. 

He sighs in relief when his son just nods his head. Ned rises back to his feet and turns towards the door. “I am going to ready my men, Septa. Take care of my children.”

The old woman smiles, “Always, Lord Stark.”

Ned smiles back and walks out of the door, closing it behind him as quietly as he can. He walks back to his chambers. 

He quickly removes his muddy, dirty clothes and puts on a clean pair. He grabs his sword, _Ice_ , from its spot hanging above his fireplace and sheathes it. He walks over to his wardrobe and packs for the long journey south. 

When he finishes, he walks out of his chambers and to the chambers of his wife. 

He opens the door, smiling as he sees his wife deep in sleep on the bed. He walks to her side as quietly as he can and places a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

He walks over to a desk and writes a note for Catelyn and places it at her bedside. He smiles sadly at her once more before turning and walking out of the room. 

He reaches the courtyard of Winterfell and walks over to Jory Cassel who is standing next to a horse. “Jory, summon ten of my men. I have been summoned to King’s Landing. We will travel through the Riverlands.”

The man nods, “Of course, Lord Stark. When would you like to depart?” 

Ned sighs, “As soon as the men are ready. We have a long journey ahead of us and the king needs me.”

Jory nods and climbs back onto his horse. “I will get them as quickly as I can, Lord Stark.”

Ned nods and says, “Thank you, Jory. Meet me at the gates as soon as you have the banner-men.”

The man nods and rides off into the dawning morning. 

**_Location: King’s Landing, Westeros. Time: Continuation._ **

**——Cersei Lannister POV——**

Cersei Lannister walks briskly through the hallways of King’s Landing, her expensive, green dress blowing in the wind. Gold fabric embroiders the borders of the dress and a beautiful gold necklace hangs around Cersei’s pale neck. Golden hair frames her face. Her green eyes add to her regal outfit and the fabric of her dress accentuates her curves, though it hides nearly all of her skin from view. Her belly is swollen with a new child and it makes her tired to walk for too long.

When she reaches her destination, she smiles as her firstborn son runs to her. “Mother,” the young boy says happily.

“Hello, my sweet. How were your lessons?” She asks.

The boy’s smile falls away, being replaced by a pout. “I don’t like the lessons, mom. Can’t I stop? I won’t need these lessons once I am king. Everyone will do as I tell them.” 

Cersei smiles at the young prince Joffrey, not paying any mind to the spoiled, arrogant attitude her son already possesses. “Yes, they will, my sweet. Do no doubt that. One day, you shall be king and shall rule over the Seven Kingdoms. Now, where is your sister?”

Joffrey frowns at the attention being drawn off of him before sullenly answering, “She is with Uncle Tyrion.”

Cersei’s eyes widen and a brief glimpse of her fury appears on her face, “Where?” She asks.

Joffrey replies once more, “The garden, mother. Uncle Tyrion wished to show her the garden.” 

Cersei nods and reaches down to take her son’s hand. “Come with me, Joff. We are going to get your sister from that _Imp,_ ” she spits out the word Imp as if it is poison.

Joffrey nods and gently grabs his mother’s hand. “Where is father?” He asks.

Cersei internally thinks, “ _That whore-mongering alcoholic is probably in his chambers with whores draped all over him._ ” Out loud she says, “He is busy, Joff. He is the king, after all.” 

Joffrey pouts once more, “But I am his son…why can’t he visit me more often?”

Cersei leans down and pulls her son’s head against her chest. “Oh, Joff. I am sure he would if he could. He is a very busy man, your father.” 

Joffrey frowns once more but nods once more. Cersei stands back up and begins walking, pulling Joffrey along with her. “Come, my sweet. Your sister needs to be rescued from my _dear brother_.” Once again, Cersei spits out the fact that Tyrion is related to her. 

“ _Oh, Jamie. What happened to you, my darling? You could have been the father of my children. You would have been if you hadn’t have disappeared on me.”_ Cersei thinks sadly to herself.

They reach the garden and Cersei angrily leads Joffrey up to Tyrion where he sits on a stone bench with her daughter. “And what do you think you are doing?” Cersei asks angrily. 

The dwarf looks up, a sly grin splitting his face. “Why hello, dear sister. I was just showing dear Myrcella here the garden.”

Cersei leans down and hisses in his ear, “Stay away from my children!” 

Tyrion looks up, a look of indifference appearing on his face. “Why?” He turns to Myrcella, “Have I done anything wrong to you, Myr?” He asks.

The young girl shakes her head. “Of course not, Uncle Tyrion.” She turns to her mother, “Mom, Uncle Tyrion has given me such a good time, today. Can he take care of me again soon?” The young girl innocently asks. 

Cersei kneels down before her daughter, pulling her into her arms and glaring at her _brother_. “Stay…away…from…her…” Cersei furiously mouths at him. 

Tyrion sighs, “Oh, dear sister. When are you going to learn that I mean you no harm.” 

Cersei sneers at him, “How could I ever believe that. You murdered my mother when you were born. You tore your way out of her, not caring.”

Tyrion’s formerly indifferent eyes turn to stone. “How dare you talk about such things in front of your children! And, dear sister, you should be taking care of yourself. You are due to give birth any day now.”

Cersei sneers at the dwarf one last time before saying, “Last warning, stay away from my children.”

Tyrion does not respond and instead walks away, his gait different due to his height.

Cersei walks towards the Red Keep once more with Myrcella in her arms and Joffrey at her side. She leads them back to her chambers and says, “Stay here. Joff, look after your sister. I need to visit your father.” 

The two children nod with Myrcella looking as happy as ever. Joffrey on the other hand sneers at his sister but remains quiet. 

Cersei turns and strides purposefully out of the room. When she reaches her husband’s room, she is surprised to not hear the sound of her husband fucking a common whore. 

She nods to the King’s Guard who stands outside the door and pushes the door open. She is shocked to see her husband toiling away, eyes glued to a map that sits on his desk. 

Cersei slowly walks up behind him before making herself known, “Robert,” She says. 

The man takes in a great breath and sips some wine from a golden goblet. He turns around, a pained smile on his face. “Wife.” He says as he eyes her swelled stomach.

Cersei mentally panics. “ _What is going on? My husband isn’t drunk and he isn’t fucking a whore. What an unusual sight._ ” She smiles. “Husband. May I inquire as to what you are doing?” She asks politely. 

Robert looks at her quizzically for a moment before saying, “Of course.”

Cersei takes a step back. “ _He has never been this kind to me. Even on our wedding night when he was sheathed inside of me he whispered the name of that northern whore._ ” 

Robert continues, “Apparently your father did not complete his task. Lord Baelish has received word from his spy network that there are _rumors_ of surviving members of House Targaryen in Pentos. If his spies are correct, there is more than one Targaryen survivor which shouldn’t be possible. My brother Stannis confirmed that the Mad King’s wife was dead after she gave birth to a daughter. I killed Rhaegar with my own hands and we executed Viserys Targaryen here in the capital.”

Robert pauses for a moment. “Rhaegar’s heir was killed by Ser Gregor Clegane, along with Elia Martell and Rhaenys Targaryen. I saw their bodies myself.”

Cersei’s eyes widen at the great deal of information she just received. She remains silent for a few moments before tentatively saying, “May I ask why you aren’t raging about this? I heard about your legendary rage when it comes to Targaryens.”

The King shakes his head, “My mentor Jon Arryn laid into me about the way I have been ruling. He basically tore apart me. I realize now that mindlessly executing any member of House Targaryen might not have been the correct approach. If I had allowed young Rhaenys Targaryen to live, she could have wed our son, solidifying House Baratheon’s claim to the throne.” 

Cersei looks at her husband in a new light. “I see. What do you plan to do about the possible survivors?” She asks.

Robert places a palm against his forehead. “I have summoned Ned here to help advise me on what to do. I am sure that the surviving Targaryens would jump at the opportunity to return to Westeros so I am debating offering them a marriage contract.”

Cersei quickly shakes her head and quietly says, “They would never accept it. They lost their entire family to our houses. If anything, they would seek to destroy us and reclaim the throne for themselves.”

Robert nods and Cersei watches as his eyes harden. “If they decline my generous offer, I will kill them all.” 

Suddenly, Robert shakes his head and Cersei steps back as a wave of rage emits from her husband’s mouth. “Those fucking dragon spawn took everything from me! They took my Lyanna from me and then fucking Rhaegar Targaryen raped and killed the love of my life. I will fucking kill every last one of them! When Ned gets here, I am going to have him ready his forces. We are going to rid this world of every last one of the incest-ridden mother-fucking dragon spawn!”

Cersei nearly falls over from shock at the complete and nearly instantaneous change in attitude from Robert. “Robert?” She carefully asks.

The man turns to her, eyes wild and uncontrolled. “What do you want, woman?!” He roars. 

Cersei takes an unconscious step back. “N-nothing.” She mutters as she turns and exits the room. 

“ _He is mad. My husband is actually as mad as the Mad King was._ ” She thinks to herself in shock. 

As she passes by the King’s Guard outside of the door she asks, “Is that normal for him?” 

They both shake their heads. “No, your grace. The mood-swapping his grace now has manifested after the news that the Targaryen may still live arrived.”

She nods and continues on her way, clutching her swollen stomach. She walks to the Rookery and sits down at a table to write a letter. 

_Dear father,_

_I am sorry to write to you so suddenly. I am sure you will be concerned to hear what I have to say._

_My husband is mad. Just now I tried to talk to him and for a few moments, the Robert from before the war with the Targaryens was present. He was kind to me and seemed to regret the slaughtering of the Targaryens. He even made intelligent points. Then, all of a sudden, he exploded. I have never seen anything like it. It is as if he has two separate personalities._

_Also, he informed me about possible survivors of House Targaryen. He has invited the Warden of the North to King’s Landing to discuss what to do next. I sincerely hope Robert can hold his composure while Lord Stark is here._

_From,_

_Cersei Lannister, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms._

Cersei quickly signs the letter and seals it, putting the seal of House Lannister on the wax to hold it closed. She walks over to a raven that will head to Casterly Rock and ties the message to its leg.

She opens the window and sends the bird on its way. 

She walks out of the Rookery, heading for the far wing of the Red Keep. There, she enters a private bedroom where her three children were conceived. 

She lays herself on the bed, caressing her swollen stomach. A few minutes later, she is disturbed from her thoughts by a voice. “Cersei? What are you doing here?” 

She sits up, gently pulling off the edges of her green dress. She hears a gulp as the silk fabric falls down her chest, revealing her pale breasts. She stands up, allowing the thin fabric to fall all the way off of her lithe form.

She says annoyedly, “What do you think I am doing? I didn’t come here to chat. Now come. Join me.”

The man at the door walks in, closing and bolting the door behind him. 

He makes his way over to the bed, sitting down before her. Cersei sneers down at the golden-haired man, wishing with her whole heart that it was Jamie. “My queen, are you sure this is a good thing to do in your condition?” The man asks. 

Cersei sneers at him, “Yes I am sure. Now fuck me. Fuck your queen.”

The man surrenders himself to his body and quickly removes his clothes. Cersei straddles the man, quickly guiding his hard length into her. She hisses out a moan as the man grabs her hips and begins to thrust. Cersei had no desire for foreplay. She just wishes to forget about her mad husband. 

Ten minutes later, Cersei pulls her dress back on, walks over to a mirror in one corner of the room. She grabs a brush and returns her hair to the state it should be before exiting the room, not sparing her lover a second glance. The man lies on the bed unconscious. 

“ _I miss you so much, Jamie. More than I ever thought possible. Why did you leave me? We are meant for one another. We are two that are one_.” 

As Cersei walks through the halls, she is abruptly stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She spins around, an angry retort on her shoulder before seeing who it is. “Lord Baelish…how dare you touch me.”

The man smiles deviously, “Forgive me, your grace. I merely needed your attention.”

Cersei sneers at the whore-peddler before saying, “Well, I wish to return to my children now so what do you want?” 

The man smirks, “I want nothing, your grace. I merely wish to inquire as to what you were doing so far from your husband’s chambers.”

Cersei’s fury reaches new heights as she steps towards the man, “How dare you…I am the queen. How dare you threaten me!”

Lord Baelish holds up his hands in surrender, “Forgive me, your grace. I meant no offense. It is merely an old habit I have to possess as much information as possible as I have always known knowledge to be power. I couldn’t help but hear…certain sounds coming from the room you were in. I am sure the king—.”

Before Lord Baelish can continue, Cersei reels back her right hand and slaps the man hard across the face. “Trust me when I say that you don’t want me as your enemy, Lord Baelish. My father would kill you if you dare insult my honor. Besides, …you have no proof behind your words.”

The man looks at her, holding a hand to his cheek where she hit him, “I-I understand, your grace. Forgive me.” 

Cersei nods stiffly, realizing how rashly she acted. “Good. You are a smart man. You ought to know what would happen to you if you slandered your queen. I will not stand for it. Make one move against me and I will see your head on a spike. And no, Lord Baelish. Knowledge is not power. Power…is power.” 

She turns and strides briskly from the room, not stopping to look at the stunned look on the man’s face. 

**_Location: Castle Black, Westeros. Time: Continuation._ **

**——Aemon Targaryen POV——**

Aemon walks quietly through his chambers, his unseeing eyes not aiding him. As he walks, he holds his hands in front of him so he doesn’t bump into anything. 

When he reaches his bed, he slowly lowers himself onto the rough blanket. He sighs and slowly rises once more. 

He painfully gasps as his old bones cry out in agony. He walks through his room, reaching towards a wooden bookcase. He fumbles around the bookcase until his hands close around the hilt of a sword hidden behind rows of books. 

He runs his weathered hands down the scabbard until he feels the full length of the sword before he slowly carries it back to his bed. He reverently places the sword down before sitting down next to it. He runs a bony finger along the unmistakable metal hilt with a dragon’s head extending out into a Valyrian Steel blade. He feels a cold crystal in the center of the cross-guard and smiles. 

He feels the rings that are engraved in the metal hilt of the sword before sighing, “ _A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing._ ”


	5. Chapter Five(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M. 

**Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter. 

**Chapter Five(Rebellion)**

**_Location: Pentos. Time: One Month Later._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron forces his feet to keep moving, his young body struggling to keep his legs churning forwards. The ground beneath his feet is covered in blood and with each step he takes, a scream of agony leaves his mouth. 

The pain flooding through his body reminds him of the _Cruciatus Curse_ that Voldemort used on him in the graveyard. It feels as though thousands of freezing-cold needles are being stabbed into every nerve in his body. 

The further he walks, the darker the sky above him gets. A bolt of lightning illuminates the road ahead and Haeron nearly vomits at what he sees. A massive pile of corpses lies in the middle of the road, decaying. The ground beneath them is stained red from blood and flies flicker from body to body. Other scavenger animals feast on the abundance of human flesh.

Haeron turns, trying to force his body to walk away but he is unable to make his legs change their direction. 

As he continues to walk, the stench of blood and rotting flesh increases. Right before Haeron reaches the pile of corpses, a hand reaches up and clasps his. “Hae…” A voice whispers, voice raw and desperate. 

Haeron looks down, eyes widening in shock and despair. Rhaenys and Daenerys lie side by side, blood flowing from wounds all over their bodies. Both are far paler than they normally are. 

Haeron’s body bends down as a tear flows down his cheek. The darkness around him closes in until all he can see are the pale bodies of Dany and Rhae. He watches as both take stuttering last breaths before both of them collapse. Silence reigns around Haeron as he attempts to make sense of the happenings around him. Tears flow freely down his cheeks as he gazes down at the two girls. 

Then, after a chilling breeze blows past him, his gaze turns downwards once more. He gasps in horror. Both Daenerys and Rhaenys are alive once more but it is clear that they are not themselves. Their eyes are not their usual colors. No, instead their eyes glow a horrifying, ice-cold blue. 

“The night is dark and full of terrors…” A chilling voice whispers into Haeron’s ear.

**\----**

Haeron sits up, sweat running down his face as he gasps for air. His mind races, trying to make sense of what he just saw. The dreams remind him of the visions he had during his fifth year at Hogwarts when he was forced to see events through the eyes of Voldemort. The visions back then also did not allow him to control what would happen in any way. 

As he calms down, he finds the blankets around him shake a little bit. He looks around himself, realization dawning inside of him. The carriage he lies in has two windows and he moves to sit up. 

He is unable to sit up because of a weight on his chest. He looks down, smiling slightly at what he sees. Rhaenys has her head resting on his chest, her black locks of hair splayed around her. Daenerys faces the other wooden wall of the carriage, back pressed to Rhaenys’ own back. 

Haeron continues to take deep breaths in an effort to calm himself. He begins to run his fingers through Rhaenys’ locks, the action further soothing his raging mind. The girl begins to stir, the action causing her to move her head further up Haeron’s chest until she buries it into his neck. 

The sudden movement causes Daenerys to roll over and she ends up sleepily wrapping an arm over Rhaenys’ body. Haeron takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his best friends. Over the six years he has known the two, the three Targaryen children developed a powerful bond. The bond ran deeper than just feelings. The bond created a link between the three. 

Haeron wasn’t sure what to call the link and he nearly laughed to think about what Hermione would have said. Probably something along the lines of, “ _The library will certainly have the answer._ ” 

Haeron sighs. While Haeron never regrets the decision he made to have a new life, he also regrets leaving his old friends behind. Both Ron and Hermione did stuff to him that maybe he shouldn’t have forgiven but that didn’t matter. They were the first and only friends he ever had. Haeron allows his mind to fully analyze the relationship he shared with the two. 

Ron. Ron may have been _Harry’s_ only true male friend but that didn’t blind Haeron to his faults. The boy was incredibly selfish, jealous, and had a temper like no other. He had terrible manners and was honestly not worthy of the trust Haeron put in him. Haeron had no doubt that if he hadn’t been the _Boy-Who-Lived_ , most likely Ron would not have paid him a second glance. The boy was attracted to power and fame like a bug to a light.

Hermione was different. She genuinely cared for him, or so he thought. Now that he thought about it, her intentions and actions always seemed to be forced around him. She always was the smartest of the _Golden Trio of Gryffindor_ but she never used that as something to hold over the two of them. 

Haeron knew that he never fully tried at Hogwarts and he even toned down his schedule and effort to fit with Ron’s. He also knew that if he did better than Hermione, she would have most likely been quite jealous of his academic capabilities. The girl was book-smart but did not possess enough raw power or genetic magical prowess to be anything more than special. Looking back on it, Haeron doubted he would have made the same choice he had made if his first encounter with Draco had been different. 

Draco Malfoy; now that was a difficult boy. Haeron didn’t pretend to think about what could have been if he and Draco had gotten off on better terms but he couldn’t help the brief glimpse that flashed through his mind. The boy was obviously intelligent and powerful but his obsessive attempts to insult _Harry_ drew back on his academic capabilities. 

“ _Things could have been so different. I probably would have never asked to not be put in Slytherin and would have been as Ron called them: A Slimy Snake. I most likely would have been a better student and maybe even befriended Malfoy._ ” Haeron thinks with a soft sigh. 

Suddenly, the familiar voice of Fate says in his head, “ **You are progressing well, Harry. I am here to check-in. I heard your thoughts and decided that you deserve some clarity. The truth is often painful and that is why I did not tell you the whole truth the first time we met. Now that you have puzzled out much of it yourself, I will reveal the whole truth**.”

Haeron’s eyes widen and he jumps slightly, causing Rhaenys to stir from her spot buried against his neck. He feels a pang in his chest when he realizes that he is about to learn about more betrayals from his life as Harry Potter. 

“ **First and foremost, remember that your old life no longer matters and that they will never be able to do anything more to you.** ” Fate pauses, as if taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “ **Alright. I will start with Albus Dumbledore and the true extent of the wrongdoings against you he committed. There is no easy way to put this. As Harry Potter, you were nothing more than Dumbledore’s puppet. He dosed you with so many potions and spells that you were hardly you at all**.” 

Haeron feels a burning feeling in his chest, one that he recognizes. Hatred. “What kind of potions and spells?” He grits out.

 **“The one that I will focus on is the _Imperius Curse._ Dumbledore used the spell to make sure you would do exactly as he wanted. He never fully controlled you but he often guided you to make different decisions than perhaps you actually would have. The list of other spells and potions goes on for a while but you do not need to hear all of them**.” 

“ **Next, Ron was being paid by Dumbledore to be your friend using money he took from your vault. As your Magical Guardian, he was granted unrestricted access and he took advantage of that. The Dursley’s were also being paid a monthly sum of money for your up-keeping, one that they certainly never used for you.** ”

Haeron’s eyes widen as more pieces slide into place. “ _That is how they always seemed to be able to afford so much for Dudley and themselves from the mediocre jobs they possessed._ ” Haeron thinks to himself, his body becoming numb with rage. 

**“Missus Weasley was paid to aid in your growth. Dumbledore ordered her to dose you with minuscule doses of love potion during every visit you took to The Burrow, all of them keyed to her young daughter.** ”

Haeron narrows his eyes, his hatred beginning to vanish into a cold feeling of acceptance. “Who were the people who truly cared about me?” 

“ **The number is lower than you deserve. I am happy to inform you that you are wrong about Hermione. She was truly your friend and she actually rejected Dumbledore’s offer of payment. She attempted to warn you but Dumbledore threatened her parents if she were to mention a word to you. Ginerva was also unaware of all of the plotting and genuinely cared for you. The Weasley Twins discovered the plotting and tried to tell you but Dumbledore _Obliviated_ them before they could**.” 

Haeron nods, relief flooding through him. 

“ **Dumbledore also orchestrated the rivalry between you and young Draco Malfoy. He placed _Compulsion_ spells on both of you, making you strongly dislike one another.** **He feared what would have happened if you truly became friends with the son of a Death Eater**. **In another reality, the two of you could have easily become good friends as were are far similar than you and Ron ever were**.” 

Haeron nods slowly, careful not to wake Rhaenys from her spot against his neck. “I understand. Thank you for telling me all of this.” 

**“I am afraid that I am not yet finished, young one, and that the worst is still yet to come.** ” 

Haeron sighs, “Alright. Hit me with it.” 

**“Neither of your parents were firmly light. Both of them had mixed feelings about which side to support and thus, remained neutral. Your mother, Harry…Your mother was not a Half-blood. She was a Pure-blood witch. The Evans’ family branched out from the Gaunt family itself, making her a true descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Her mother was the great-granddaughter of Merope Gaunt. Merope had a daughter, the sister to Tom Riddle, Europa Riddle. She was born one year before her brother but was _Obliviated_ and left at an Orphanage. She later married a man named Charles Evans.” **Fate pauses, giving Haeron a moment to take it all in.

 **“Dumbledore manipulated Severus Snape into telling the Dark Lord that James and Lily were plotting to destroy him, using you. Tom Riddle saw no other option but to get rid of you**.” 

Haeron closes his eyes, taking deep breaths. “You are telling me that not only were my parents not firmly ‘light’ but that my mother’s grandmother was Tom Riddle’s sister?” 

“ **Yes. The fact that your mother was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin is why you can speak to snakes. Yes, having a piece of Tom Riddle’s soul in your head may have increased your abilities, but you still possess them with him gone.** ” Is all the response he gets. 

Haeron allows the information he learned from Fate to sink in before finally, his anger explodes. “Fuck.” He whispers, doing his best to keep his anger silent to allow Dany and Rhae to sleep. 

“Thank you, Fate. You have already done far more for me than I deserve.” Haeron says quietly. 

“ **Nonsense. The life you lived as Harry Potter was never meant to go the way it did. That was not the life I created for you.** **Now, before I go, I need to give you a warning.** ” 

Haeron sighs. “Alright. Thank you.”

“ **I cannot reveal too much to you as it would alter the timeline in negative ways. The dream you just had was what you would know as a vision. It was a much more pure form of _Divination_ and showed you a possible future should you prove to be unable to stop what is coming.**” Fate says. 

“What is coming?” Haeron asks, confusion in his voice. 

“ **Night, Darkness, and Death. That is all I can say. The rest will be up to you.** ”

Haeron sighs. “I never seem to be able to live a normal life. First, I am going to have to conquer an entire continent and then there is another threat coming. Can you tell me when this enemy will arrive?”

“ **No. Even I do not know. The enemy is also outside of the grasp of Fate. The one thing I can tell you is that you, Daenerys, and Rhaenys need to hatch your dragons. Only by becoming the famed Three-Headed-Dragon of House Targaryen does this world stand a chance at survival.** ”

Haeron nods, causing Rhaenys to stir. “Thank you, Fate. We are going to hatch our dragons as soon as we reach Meereen and Jon Connington.” 

“ **Be careful around that man, Haeron. He possesses a unique loyalty to House Targaryen, one so strong that he may try and make up things in the hopes of returning House Targaryen to its former glory.** ”

Haeron shakes his head, “Will I ever be able to live a normal life, Fate?” 

“ **That is the last reason I am here. Once you, Daenerys, and Rhaenys save this world, you will be granted another opportunity. I am not going to reveal what it is until then as I do not want to get your hopes up**.” 

Haeron smiles slightly, “So…All I have to do to get a normal life is conquer an entire civilization and stop an unknown enemy. Great, sounds easy.” The sarcasm in his voice is easy to hear.

 **“Good luck, Harry Potter. The road ahead of you is a long one.** ” Fate says and then Haeron feels her leave his mind. 

Haeron lies still, allowing all of the new information to flood through his mind. “ _I don’t understand how I never noticed any spells. How did I not figure anything out? Was I really that oblivious?_ ”

The carriage comes to a sudden stop and Haeron can hear the sound of muffled shouting outside. A moment later, the sound of metal clashing against metal is heard. Both Daenerys and Rhaenys wake up to the sound and both press themselves against Haeron.

After a few moments, the metal clanging stops, and the door to the carriage opens. Ser Jamie asks, “Are you okay, your grace?” 

Haeron nods. “We are fine. What happened? Are any of you hurt? Is my mother okay?” 

Jamie nods, “We are fine. Ser Oswell received a minor wound on his right arm but he will be fine. Your mother and grandmother are fine, your grace.”

Haeron nods, “Good. Who attacked you?”

“A group of four men with swords attempted to rob as they saw the nice carriages. Your mother and grandmother are both still in the other carriage.” Jamie responds. 

“Well done. Are the men dead?” Haeron asks. 

“Yes. They are dead.” Jamie answers. 

Haeron sighs. “Alright. What is the Lord Commander suggesting we do now?” 

“He suggests that we continue on our path to Meereen. He estimates that we are a week’s ride from the city of Meereen. Jon Connington is going to meet us a few miles outside of the city and take us to the manse we will be living in.” Jamie responds. 

Haeron nods. “Good. Let us continue, then. Tell my mother and grandmother that Daenerys, Rhaenys, and I weren’t seen as I am sure they are worrying.”

Jamie nods. “At once, your grace. Ser Arthur also asked me to tell you that your mother has granted him permission to begin training all three of you in combat when we arrive at the manse.”

Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys share an excited glance at the prospect of finally being allowed to learn to fight. “Excellent. Thank you, Ser Jamie.” 

The golden-haired man nods before closing the door to the carriage. Haeron turns to Dany and Rhae, “Did you two sleep well?” 

Dany nods, “Yes, Hae. Although I had a terrible dream.” 

Rhaenys nods her head in agreement, “As did I.” 

Haeron frowns slightly, “Are either of you comfortable with sharing what happened in your dreams?”

Both nod. “Of course,” Rhaenys says. “In my dream, I was…I was killed by these men. They weren’t normal men. They looked dead. Then, I opened my eyes and saw Hae. Then a voice said, ‘…the night is dark and full of terrors.’”

Haeron nods his head. Daenerys says, “That is exactly what happened to me.”

Haeron nods, “I had the same dream. I saw the two of you on the ground, dead. Then, you both opened your eyes but they weren’t their usual color. Dany’s were not purple and Rhae’s were not their usual dark, stormy color. They were a bright blue color.” 

The three children share glances, curiosity, and fear running across their faces, “What does it mean?” Rhaenys asks. “If we all had the same dream, it has to mean something.” 

Haeron nods, “While you two were sleeping, I was visited by Fate once more.” 

Both Rhaenys and Daenerys sit up, instantly wide awake. “What? What did Fate say?” Daenerys asks. 

“She was here to warn me. The dream we had was a warning about a possible future if the three of us do not stop it.” Haeron says with a sigh. 

“Did Fate mention where the enemy would come from?” Rhaenys asks. 

Haeron shakes his head. “She said that she couldn’t tell me.” A moment of silence falls over the three. “She also cleared up a lot about my past life. Information that shed light onto all of the betrayals I faced.” 

Both Daenerys and Rhaenys smile sadly at Haeron, “I wish we could have been with you for your past life. We would never have left your side.” Rhaenys says. 

Haeron smiles softly at the two girls, “I know you wouldn’t have. I already trust the two of you than I have ever trusted anyone in my life.” 

Daenerys places the palm of her hand on Haeron’s cheek, “And we trust you, Hae. You will be king and we will do our duty to help you get that.” 

Haeron’s smile falls away. “Do your duty?” He asks.

The two look down, “You will need alliances to conquer Westeros, Hae. And marriage is the best way for you to get those alliances.” Rhaenys says softly. 

Haeron instantly shakes his head, “Never. I will never send either of you away to marry anyone you do not wish to marry. I cannot lose you. I want you by my side for the rest of my life.” 

Rhaenys sighs softly, “And we want that too, but we will need alliances.”

“The answer is no. I will never allow another man near you.” Haeron says coldly. 

Daenerys smiles softly at Haeron, “And we love you for that, Haeron. But war may make us do stuff we would never wish to.” 

Haeron still shakes his head, “I would sooner burn down the entirety of Westeros than marry off the two of you. And once we have our dragons, that is a possibility.” 

Rhaenys nods her head. “Thank you, Haeron. You will make a fantastic king. Our Dragon King.” 

**——Eddard Stark POV——**

Ned guides his horse through the gates of King’s Landing, grimacing at the terrible smell and chaotic noise. People dart through the streets, many of them begging visitors for food or money. 

The ten guards Ned brought with him ride in a tighter formation around him, protecting him from the crowd that surges towards him. He guides his horse forward until they reach the gates to the Red Keep. Ned climbs off of his horse, handing the reins to Jory Cassel.

His guards look to him for orders, “Take your horses to the stable and then you are dismissed. Be back here at dawn for new orders.” 

The men nod and lead their horses away. Ned turns to Jory. “Follow them. Make sure they do not get into too much trouble.” 

The man nods and quickly follows the men. Ned turns to the gate, watching as it opens slowly. Ser Barristan Selmy walks forward, his gold King’s Guard armor gleaming in the sunlight. “Welcome, Lord Stark. His grace is awaiting your arrival in his personal chambers. He wishes to speak with you before the Small Council meeting later this afternoon.” 

Ned nods and follows the Lord Commander into the Red Keep. The Keep is not very full due to Robert’s abhorrence for poverty. He only allows those he deems worthy to even enter the Red Keep. 

When the Lord Commander reaches Robert’s chambers, he knocks on the door. “Your grace, Lord Stark is here to speak with you.”

“Good. Send him in.” Robert calls out. 

Ned walks in, surprised to see Robert standing next to a wooden desk, palms pressed against the wood as he focuses on a map on the table. Ned can’t help but notice the way Robert has changed. He is no longer the fit, handsome man Ned remembers from years ago. “I am glad you came, Ned.” 

Ned nods, “Of course, your grace.”

The man shakes his head, “No, Ned. We were brothers once, during the war. We still are. Call me Robert.” 

Ned nods, “We were.” A moment of silence falls. “Why have you summoned me, Robert?” 

“Some of the dragons survived, Ned. Lord Baelish has informed me that his spies picked up word of Targaryens in Pentos. We need to come up with a plan to destroy the dragon fuckers once and for all.” Robert says. 

Ned sighs, “Why would we do that, Robert? They are across The Narrow Sea. There isn’t even any confirmation beyond Lord Baelish’s spies.”

Robert turns to face Ned, “Why would we do that? WHY WOULD WE DO THAT?! Because the Targaryens stole my intended and raped and killed her. They stole her from me, Ned. Forcing me to marry my bitch of a wife.” 

Ned takes a step back, holding his hands up in an effort to appease Robert, “Rhaegar is dead, Robert. You killed him. He cannot do anything else to you. You killed Viserys Targaryen. He cannot do anything. Gregor Clegane murdered Aegon and Rhaenys, along with Elia. They cannot do anything.” Ned speaks about the murder of Elia, Aegon, and Rhaenys with great disgust, something Robert notices.

Robert’s expression turns furious, “I don’t give a fuck which Targaryen it is. If I had been here when Clean killed the Targaryens, I would have done the same as him. He followed orders and dealt with them.” 

Ned shakes his head, “I am sorry, Robert. I will not aid in the extinction of the most ancient house in Westeros.” 

The man’s face turns cold, “If you won’t help me, I am sure that Lord Tywin will.” 

Ned’s eyes widen slightly, “Yes, I am sure Lord Tywin would help you but at what cost? He is not a man to help you as a gesture of good faith. He will ask for something of great value in return.” 

Robert sighs, “I know. I do not want to kill the Targaryens, Ned. I wish one of the Targaryen children had survived for me to marry to one of my children. That would solidify my claim to the throne and would further link me to House Targaryen beyond my grandmother.” 

Ned can’t stop his shock from being displayed on his face at the immediate change in personality. He goes to say something but before he can, there is a knock at the door. Robert sighs, “Damn it all. Who is it?” 

“Lord Arryn, your grace.” A guard calls back. 

Robert sighs, “Send him in.” 

The door opens and Jon Arryn walks in. Ned smiles at the man and walks over to greet him, “Well met, Lord Hand.” 

The man smiles back, “It is good to see you, Lord Stark. I trust the family is well?”

Ned smiles, “Yes. Catelyn gave birth the day I was summoned here. A strong healthy daughter. Cat and I named her Arya.” 

The man smiles, “A good, northern name.” Jon turns to the king. “The Small Council is awaiting your presence, your grace.” 

Robert nods, “Gods be good one of them will have an answer to my question.” 

Ned and Jon share a look and Ned can tell that Jon is used to the mood shifts, “Alright. Lead the way, Jon.” Robert says. 

Ned falls into step behind Robert and Jon, his mind racing, “ _Is Robert going mad? I have never seen someone change from being bloodthirsty to being regretful over past bloodshed. Is his madness due to the Targaryen blood in his veins?_ ” 

He is drawn out of his thoughts when they reach the Small Council chamber. Robert walks in, placing a crown on his head that Ser Barristan hands him. The other occupants of the room stand, bowing their heads in respect to Robert. 

Robert walks over to the central chair and sits down, grunting as he sits down. “Report.” He says. 

Grand Maester Pycelle is the first to speak. “Your Grace, the people pray to your health.” The old man stutters out, bowing his head once more to the king. 

Robert waves his hand, “Yes, yes. Now onto important matters.” He turns to Lord Baelish. “Lord Baelish? Anything to report?” 

The man smirks, a knowing smile on his face, “Yes, your grace. My informants overheard a man speaking in Pentos. He was a…slave…at a manse in Pentos. The manse belongs to a man called Illyrio Mopatis. According to him, multiple Targaryens stayed there for almost six years.” 

Robert stands up, excitement clear on his face. “Really? Did he mention any names?”

Ned takes in a deep breath, awaiting the man's response. “No, I am afraid. I cannot even confirm if the man was speaking true. The manse was abandoned a month ago and Illyrio disappeared too.”

Robert sighs, sitting down once more. “Fuck. Those Targaryen bitches are going to escape once more, aren’t they?” 

Lord Baelish smirks once more, “Not necessarily, your grace. After some further digging, I was able to discover one name. A name that was mentioned. A name of a man who was guarding the manse’s guests.”

Robert waves a hand, “Well, spit it out. What name?” 

Lord Baelish grins, “Jamie Lannister.” 

Only Ned’s years of practice keep him from gasping at the words. The others at the table react in a similar fashion. Lord Varys speaks up, “Your grace, my little birds have discovered different information. They have told me that the Targaryens discovered that you knew of their existence. They fled inland to an unknown location. My little birds report that the Targaryen entourage left Pentos the day the manse was abandoned. We will not be able to find them until they wish to be found.” 

Robert sighs, sending an annoyed glance at the Master of Whispers. He turns to the Master of ships, “Brother, what do you think of this current situation?” 

Stannis Baratheon rises to his feet, “Your Grace, I believe that Lord Varys is correct. The Targaryens could be in any of the cities by now. If they even exist at all.” 

Robert slams a fist on the table, “Damn it. I want them dead. I want them all dead. Kill them all!”

Everyone at the table stands up, taking a step away from the raging king. After a few moments, the man calms down, “What the fuck are you all looking at? Get out!”

Everyone leaves the room except for Ned and Jon. “Your grace—.” Ned tries.

Robert interrupts him, “No, Ned. I need time to think. Go back to your family in the north. They need you more than I do.” 

Ned shakes his head, “As much as I wish that were true, it isn’t right now, Robert.” 

Jon sends Ned a warning look but Ned continues, “How do you change opinions so quickly?” 

Robert rises to his feet, fists clenched at his sides as his face turns red in anger. “How…dare…you…insinuate…that…I…am…not…well.” The man grits out. 

Ned sighs, “I did nothing of the sort, Robert. I am just worried about one of my oldest friends.” 

The king sighs before saying, “You are dismissed, Lord Hand. Ned and I have some things to discuss.” 

The man sends another warning look Ned’s way before exiting the room. Once Jon is gone, Robert mutters under his breath, “I could use a good whore right now. Some nice tits would be nice.”

Ned sighs, shaking his head at his old friend, “What do you wish to speak to me about, Robert?” 

“I want the two of us to go back to how we were during the war, Ned. I want us to trust each other again.” Robert says. 

Ned nods, “I would like that too, Robert.” 

The man nods. “Good. Would you care to join me on a visit to Lord Baelish’s brothel?” 

Ned shakes his head, “You know I don’t do that, Robert. I am loyal to my wife.” 

Robert sighs, “Yes, you are. I admire you for that, Ned. I cannot remember the last time I saw you enter a brothel. Actually, I cannot remember the last time you looked at another woman. How do you do it?”

Ned chuckles softly, “Out of all the topics you could choose to talk about, you are choosing to talk about how I restrain myself from looking at every woman who passes by?” 

Robert nods, a chuckle of his own leaving his mouth. “Aye. The last time I remember you looking at a woman other than dear Cat was before the war. Ashara was her name, wasn’t it?” 

Ned frowns, the smile falling off of his face at the mention of Ashara. “ _Oh, Ashara…Things could have been so different…”_ Out loud, Ned replies. “Aye…” Ned says softly, not elaborating. 

“By the gods was she a beauty,” Robert says, a nostalgic tone to his voice. “That black hair and those…” He trails off. 

Ned looks at him, “Robert? Are you okay?” 

Robert mutters, “Purple eyes…Targaryens…Ashara…” Is all Ned can make out. 

Ned’s eyes widen as he realizes where Robert’s mind was going, “Robert, Ashara Dayne is not a Targaryen. She may have some of the Valyrian features but she is not a Targaryen.” 

Robert either cannot hear Ned or chooses to ignore him, “Targaryens…fire…kill…blood…hammer…” Robert says, his voice so low that Ned stands up. 

Ned says, “Thank you for the conversation, your grace. I will be heading back for the north and my family now.” 

The king instantly snaps out of his stupor and says, “No. You will not be going anywhere. I need you here, Ned. The Targaryens will be back and we will be ready.” 

“Robert, please. I have a newborn daughter that I have barely even seen yet.” Ned says softly. 

Robert turns to look at him. “Daughter? You and Cat had another child?” 

Ned nods, “Yes, Robert. We named her Arya. Arya Stark of Winterfell.” 

The king smiles softly, “Go home, Ned. Go back to your family.” 

Ned nods, “Thank you, your grace. I will leave after the Small Council meeting tomorrow.” 

Robert nods. “Goodnight, Ned. Send in Lancel when you leave.”

Ned nods his head, “Goodnight, Robert.”

He walks to the door, gently opening it and closing it behind him. He nods to the King’s Guard standing outside the door. He sees Lancel Lannister standing a few feet away, a pitcher in his hand. “The king has requested your presence, Lannister,” Ned says as he walks past him. 

The golden-haired man walks into the room, a nervous expression on his face. 

**— _Time Skip—_**

As Ned walks through the Red Keep to the small council meeting, he allows his worries to surface once more. “ _What has happened to Robert? One second, he is the very man who I fought with side by side in the war, the next he resembles Aerys Targaryen more than himself._ ”

Ned is interrupted from his thoughts by Lord Varys, “Good day, Lord Stark.” The bald man says. 

Ned nods his head, “And to you, Lord Varys.”

The man nods and the two walk in silence for a moment before Varys says, “After the Small Council meeting, I have news to share with you.” 

Ned nods, shooting the man a curious glance, “Of course, Lord Varys.” 

The two enter the Small Council chamber and see everyone but Robert is already present. Renly and Stannis sit next to each other, whispering a conversation. Ser Barristan stands to one side, a hand on the hilt of his sword. Jon Arryn sits to the right of Robert’s chair with Pycelle at his side. Lord Baelish sits across the table from Jon Arryn, his ever-present smirk still in place. 

Ned and Varys walk over to sit across from the Baratheon brothers, both of whom nod a greeting to Ned. 

A few minutes later, Jon Arryn stands up, “Alright, well it seems that his grace will not be attending the meeting today. We will proceed without him and I will relay any important matters to him myself.” 

The other occupants of the room nod and Jon begins, “Our sources in the north have heard rumors of the Iron Born mobilizing their fleet. We do not yet know what their target is or if they plan to invade. For now, I suggest we begin to call together banners in case of an assault.”

Grand Maester Pycelle quickly speaks up, “Shouldn’t we await the opinion of the king before making such a momentous decision?” 

Stannis scoffs, “ _His grace…_ is most likely knee-deep in some whore, drunk.”

No one responds to the comment but Ned frowns. Lord Baelish chuckles softly, “I can confirm that he is indeed with some whores. He asked me to send two to his chambers last night.” 

Ned sighs, “ _Oh Robert. How can you dishonor your wife in such a way? I know that Cersei Lannister is not the woman you wanted to marry but the Robert I knew was honorable. He would never have lain with whores. He would never have fathered bastards._ ” 

“Is there any more news since the meeting yesterday?” Jon asks.

Everyone shakes his head but Varys nods, “Yes, Lord Hand. My little birds have discovered where Illyrio Mopatis fled to. Should I order them to bring him here?” 

Jon nods, “Yes. See it done. We can question the man as to whether or not there truly were Targaryens in Pentos.” 

Varys nods, “At once, Lord Hand.” 

The Council Chamber falls silent before Lord Baelish says, “As Master of Coin, it is my duty to report that the Iron Throne is now more than four-million gold dragons in debt. Mostly to the Iron Bank and the Lannisters.” 

Ned’s eyes widen in shock, turning to see Jon’s reaction to the news. Jon Arryn rubs the back of his hand against his brow, sighing. “Nothing has changed, then.”

Ned’s eyes widen even further at the reaction. “ _Four-million in debt and no one is worried about what the Lannisters or the Iron Bank will demand in payment? What has happened? How could Robert allow this to happen?_ ” 

Suddenly, the door to the Council chamber bursts open, and Robert stumbles in, clearly heavily intoxicated. He stumbles to the table and sits in his chair. “Have we made a plan to kill the Targaryens yet?” He slurs out. 

The room falls silent for a moment before Jon Arryn says, “No, your grace.”

Robert sneers and mutters, “A bunch of useless fuckers, aren’t they?” 

Ned shares a look with Lord Arryn before saying, “Your Grace, I cannot condone the murder of children, no matter what blood flows through their veins.”

Robert’s eyes darken with anger and his face turns red to the point where it looks like he is about to explode. Then, as suddenly as it arrived, the anger is gone. “Go home, Ned. Your presence is no longer needed here.” 

Ned rises, saying, “I will return home, your grace. It is obvious that my opinions are no longer of any value to you.” 

The king visibly deflates, “Sit down, Ned. We have more to discuss.” 

Ned remains standing, “Make up your mind, Robert. Do I stay or do I go?”

The king grits his teeth before slurring out, “You will stay. I command it.” 

Ned hides a sneer, “ _If this is Robert, Haeron cannot return soon enough._ ” 

“I want to throw a party.” The king slurs out. 

“An excellent idea, your grace.” Maester Pycelle says, instantly agreeing with the king. 

“ _How that man is the Grand Maester, I do not know._ ” Ned thinks. 

The king turns to Petyr Baelish, “Have it done, Lord Baelish.” 

The man nods, his smirk still not leaving his face. “Of course, your grace. What would you like to happen at this…party?”

Before the king can answer, Cersei walks into the room, a distraught look on her face. “I am sorry to interrupt, husband, but your daughter is missing.” 

Robert stands up, eyes narrowing, “Missing? What do you mean…missing?” 

A tear rolls down Cersei’s cheek. “When I went to her chambers this morning, I found this.” 

She hands a slip of paper to the king. Ned watches as the king’s nostrils flare in anger. “Son of a bitch.” 

“What has happened, your grace?” Jon asks. 

“My daughter has been kidnapped from inside the Red Keep. Someone I trusted has betrayed me. I want whoever did this to have their head on a spike! Find her!” Robert roars. 

“ _Who could have taken Robert’s daughter? What does the note say?_ ” Ned thinks to himself.

“Your grace, does the note say who has taken her?” Ned asks. 

Robert shakes his head, rage clear in his expression. “No. The only thing the note says is _What is dead may never die…_ ”

**A/N. I am so sorry to all of the readers who know the GoT timeline front and back. I realize now that I have basically destroyed the timeline. This story was meant to be very AU but the timeline is far worse than I anticipated. I have only ever seen the show so I am having to do a great deal of online research about the Greyjoy Rebellion.**

**Once I finish this story, I am going to rewrite it and I will fix the timeline and improve this story based on reviews.**

**After doing research, I am now aware that the Greyjoy Rebellion occurs one year after Bran Stark is born, thus, two after the birth of Arya Stark. The Rebellion will be the main focus of the next chapter but may not get all of the facts right because I have not read the books and all the information I will use will be from online sources.**

**It took a lot of planning to begin to tie Harry's past life into his new one and I hope you can accept the changes I made. As I have said before, this is my own AU story and I can change whatever I wish.**

**Thanks for reading and following! This story has grown far beyond what I ever expected!**


	6. Chapter Six(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M. 

**Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter. 

**Chapter Six(Fire and Blood)**

**_Location: Unknown Region, Essos. Time: One Year Later._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron takes a deep breath, the heat from the sun almost unbearable, even inside of the carriage. Rhaenys and Daenerys both sit in the carriage with him, though all three keep a few feet between themselves to keep cooler. 

Over the past few weeks, Haeron would freely admit that he missed the weather in his old world. He would even prefer being freezing cold over the miserable heat he was subjected to.

Besides him, Rhaenys sighs, sweat rushing down her forehead. “Hae, isn’t there some sort of magic you can use to cool us down?” 

Haeron mentally facepalms. “Actually, yes. What was I thinking? I could have remembered that weeks ago and none of us would have been so miserable.”

Rhaneys chuckles, “It’s okay, Hae. You are still only seven. Mistakes happen.” 

Haeron sighs but calls out, “Ser Arthur, See Jamie, stop both carriages.” 

A moment later, the carriage around them comes to a stop. Jamie opens the door. “Yes, Your Grace?” 

Haeron rises from his spot in the carriage and climbs out of the carriage. He walks over to the other carriage and opens the door. “Hello mother, grandmother. I am so sorry I didn’t think of this sooner.” 

Before either of them can ask, Haeron closes his eyes and focuses. Under his breath, he mutters, “ _Glacius Nedum._ ” 

Both his mother and grandmother gasp, looking at him in shock. Rhaella leans forward, “Thank you so much, Haeron. My old body couldn’t take much more of this heat.” 

Haeron smiles, though he feels his body sway from the use of his power. “Ser Arthur, call over the Lord Commander and Ser Oswell Whent.” 

Once all four members of the King’s Guard are present, Haeron repeats the incantation. His body wavers as the four men gasp in surprise at the difference. “Thank you, Your Grace. Are you all right?” The Lord Commander asks. 

Haeron nods, leaning on Arthur for support. “I am alright, Lord Commander. I just need rest after using my magic. Take me back to my carriage.” 

Arthur helps Haeron back over to his carriage, aiding the young king as he climbs inside. Haeron closes the door, collapsing to the soft cushion of the carriage. He slowly sits up, feeling the concern from Dany and Rhaenys. “I am alright. I really need to begin using magic more. My magical core is weak and even using a small spell has left me exhausted.” 

Haeron shakes his head, focusing on his magic once more, focusing on him, Rhaneys, and Daenerys. “ _Glacius Nedum._ ” 

Both Rhaenys and Daenerys sigh in relief as their bodies cool down. Their eyes fill with concern as Haeron collapses back once more, eyes rolling back in his head.

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Meereen. Time: One Week Later._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron slowly blinks his eyes open, wincing at the ache he feels in his muscles. “Oh, thank the gods.” He hears.

As his vision clears, he sees his mother hovering over him, concern written all over his face. “Don’t ever do that again, Hae.” She scolds him, pulling him into her arms. 

Haeron frowns, “What happened?” 

Rhaenys places a hand on his arm, “You collapsed after using that spell. You’ve been out for a week.” 

Haeron sighs, slowly sitting up. He looks around himself, frowning in confusion at what he sees. “Where are we?” 

Daenerys appears at his side, “We arrived at this manse yesterday. We were worried about you so we pushed the horses harder.” 

Haeron’s eyes widen, placing a hand on the side of the bed he lies in to sit up. His eyes dart around the room, taking in his surroundings. The room is rather simple but elegant at the same time. A beautifully embroidered tapestry adorns one wall, depicting a silver-haired man riding a massive dragon. 

Haeron’s eyes fall upon an unknown face and he frowns. The man has a beard and bright blue eyes. His skin is somewhat wrinkled from old age but he still possesses a powerful presence about him. The man steps forward, lowering himself to a knee. “I am honored to meet you, Your Grace. You look so much like your father.” 

Haeron slowly stands up. “I assume you are Jon Connington?” 

The man nods, smiling softly. “You assume correctly, Your Grace. I live to serve you as I once served your father.” 

Haeron nods, “Rise, Lord Connington. If my father trusted you, I will trust his judgment.” 

The man nods, rising to his feet and taking a step back. Haeron turns back to his mother. “I am sorry for worrying you, mother. I overexerted myself.” 

Lyanna’s face softens, “It is alright, Haeron. In the future, a little warning might be nice before you collapse.” 

Haeron nods. His eyes find Rhaenys’ black orbs, her worry still clear. Haeron’s eyes soften. He looks at his mother, “Can you give Daenerys, Rhaenys, and I some time?” 

Lyanna smiles softly, nodding. She walks out of the room with Rhaella close behind her. Jon Connington follows their lead, leaving the room. Before Ser Arthur exits, Haeron calls out. “Ser Arthur, bring the wooden chest here.” 

The man nods, “Yes, Your Grace.” 

He exits the room, closing the white, wooden door behind him. Haeron turns to face the two girls, a soft smile on his face. He goes to say something but before he can, he is engulfed in a hug from Rhaenys. The girl hugs him tightly, pulling his face against her chest. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Hae,” Rhaenys whispers softly. 

Haeron smiles, “I can’t promise that I won’t be in trouble more. I will try my best though.” 

Rhaenys pulls back slowly, her face mere inches from Haeron’s. Daenerys steps closer, pulling both of the older children towards the bed. The three curl up together, just enjoying each other’s company. 

A few minutes later, Ser Arthur enters the room, placing the wooden chest next to the bed. The three Targaryen children climb off the bed and walk over to the chest, anticipation rushing through them. Haeron leans down and opens the lid, grinning at the sight of the eggs. 

Haeron gently rubs his palm down the golden egg, enjoying the comfortable heat the egg exudes. He stands up, looking around the room. He walks over to one corner of the room, Dany and Rhae right behind him. He closes his eyes, preparing to set up barrier spells when Rhaenys lightly slaps him on the back. 

“Haeron! You just woke up from a week-long nap after using magic and now you want to use it again?!”  
Haeron sighs, turning to face Rhaenys. “You are right. I am sorry. I just want us to hatch our eggs.”

Rhaenys’ expression softens, “I know, Hae. Dany and I want the same thing but you knocking yourself out again won’t help us.” 

Haeron nods, eyes widening as an idea dawns upon him. “Rhaenys, Daenerys, come here.”

The two girls do, standing right in front of him. “What is it, Hae?”

Haeron grins, “I may not be able to cast all of the necessary spells right now by myself but I don’t need to.”

Dany frowns, “What do you mean you don’t need to?” 

Haeron grins, “It is time that we try and unlock the magic within both of you.” 

The two girls look shocked for a moment before they both break out into wide smiles. Daenerys bounces on her feet, “What do we need to do?” 

Haeron sighs, “I have no idea. This isn’t something I dealt with in my past life.”  
The room around them darkens suddenly, a cold breeze flowing through the room. The shadows are drawn together in the center of the room to form a familiar figure. 

Haeron smiles, “Fate.” 

Daenerys and Rhaenys both gasp as they realize who the being in front of them is. Fate chuckles at the amazed looks on the faces of Dany and Rhae. “ **I heard what you said and thought you could use a little help**.” Fate says, voice ringing around the room. 

Haeron looks at the door, worried someone might hear the mythical being. The being chuckles, “ **Oh, don’t worry. They can’t hear what is going on in this room and they will not enter**.” 

Haeron turns back to the being, nodding. “Thank you, Lady Fate. Can you tell us what we need to do?” 

Fate nods her head, “ **Yes, and I will. But first, I have another warning for you. The usurper King Robert just destroyed an Iron Born rebellion and the people of Westeros respect him even more. Your task of taking the throne from him is getting harder**.” 

Haeron sighs, “Is there any news about my uncle?” 

Fate nods, “ **Your uncle fought at Robert Baratheon’s side. The Iron Born were forced to surrender and Eddard Stark took Balon Greyjoy’s son as a ward. Also, Catelyn Stark just gave birth to another son. Brandon Stark was born during the rebellion. He also had a daughter before the rebellion. A young girl named Arya Stark.** ” 

Haeron smiles softly at the news, glad to know he has more family in the world. “Thank you, Lady Fate.” 

The mythical figure inclines her head, “ **Now, back to why I am here.** ” She turns to face Daenerys and Rhaenys. “ **Haeron is correct in saying that you two possess magic. It is just buried deep within you. I can do nothing to help it emerge, however. That is up to the two of you.** ” 

Rhaenys steps forward, legs shaking slightly. “Umm…Lady Fate? How do we…unlock this power?”  
Fate smiles softly, “ **My dear child, the power is not locked away, merely buried. The power within the blood of Targaryens has been buried for centuries. In order for you to release it once more, your bond to Haeron must be completed. The raw magic combined with the dragon’s blood the three of you share will jumpstart your power.** ” 

Daenerys speaks, “And how do we bond completely?” 

Fate smiles, “ **By combining a drop of blood from each of you in a flame, you will burn what is burying your power. The flame will purify you**. **Also, this will help you too, Haeron. It will bind your power to your dragon’s blood. This will replace the usual necessity for a focus. There are other side effects to combining your dragon’s blood in fire but that will be for you three to discover.** ”

The three children share a look before Haeron walks over to a metal brazier by the door, Daenerys and Rhaenys close behind him. He summons a small piece of paper from a desk at one end of the room and places it in the center. The brazier is empty and looks nearly unused. “ _I guess there is no need for a fire in this heat_.” Haeron thinks. 

Haeron points at the brazier and says, “ _Incendio_.” 

A flame flares to life, quickly catching fire to the paper. “Quickly. I cannot hold this power for long.” 

A knife appears in Haeron’s hand, causing him to turn to face Fate. The figure shrugs innocently but Haeron can see the ghost of a smile on her face. 

Haeron places the knife in his palm and slices the tip of his thumb. He hands the knife to Rhaenys, carefully keeping the welling blood on his finger. Rhaenys slices her own thumb, handing the knife to Dany. 

Once all three of them have the blood on their fingers, Haeron says, “On three. One…two…three.” 

All three children allow their blood to drop into the flames. At first, nothing happens. The three children turn in a circle, curiosity causing them to look back at the flames. As the flames sputter out, the three see their blood combining, the liquid not affected by the heat of the flames. 

As the last ember of fire dies, the blood rises out of the brazier, floating in the air between the three children. After hovering for a few moments, the blood vanishes in a bright flash of light. 

A feeling as though liquid fire is being poured down his body causes Haeron to shiver. His body feels energized, more power than he has ever felt flooding through his senses. 

Haeron turns to look at Dany and Rhae, smiling when he sees them. The two sit on the floor, smiles on their faces as they look around themselves. Rhaenys is the first to stand, turning towards Haeron. “This is amazing! I have never felt anything like this before!” 

Haeron chuckles softly, “I haven’t either. I guess having the blood of dragons is a great way to possess incredible power.”  
Dany stands a moment later, pale skin awash in a new glow. Her purple eyes appear a little brighter than they were before the blood. 

Fate behind them says, “ **It is done. You have your magic. Good luck, Haeron. The road ahead of you is long and complicated**.” 

Fate vanishes, the light and temperature of the room returning to normal. Haeron feels the cut on his finger burn, watching in shock as it closes up, not even leaving a scar. 

He looks at Daenerys and Rhaenys, smiling when he sees them looking at their own hands in awe. Haeron says, “With this brazier and our newfound power, I believe we can hatch our dragons without any protective enchantments.” 

Rhaenys and Daenerys nod eagerly. Rhaenys says, “Yes, you are right. Although I do not believe that the eggs will fit into this small brazier.”

Haeron chuckles, “Rhae, come now. You just unlocked _magic_.” 

Rhaenys sighs, nodding her head. Haeron places his right hand on the edge of the brazier, closing his eyes. “Go get the wooden chest, Dany, Rhae. I will handle the size of this thing.” 

The two girls nod and walk towards the wooden chest. “ _Engorgio,_ ” Haeron says softly. 

The brazier grows a few feet taller and wider, coming nearly to Haeron’s chest. Behind him, Daenerys and Rhaenys arrive with the chest. 

Haeron turns to face them, a wide grin on his face as he looks at them. Daenerys opens the chest, her eyes alight with need. 

Haeron walks over to the desk, picking up many sheets of paper. He places them all in the brazier and mutters, “ _Incendio_.” 

The flames catch fire nearly instantaneously, sending sparks up into the air. The three children each pick up their own egg, gently caressing the scales. 

Rhaenys goes first, gently placing her purple egg into the flames. The orange fire gently caresses her skin, causing her to laugh softly. 

Haeron goes next, placing his golden egg into the flames to the right of Rhaenys’. The surface of the golden egg shines brightly, reflecting the light from the flames.

Daenerys goes last, gently cradling her black egg. The red swirls on the egg, pulse softly in the light of the flame. She places it into the fire to the right of Haeron’s egg. 

Haeron palms the knife fate gave them before grimacing and slicing his palm open. The two girls gasp at the act but quickly do the same. The three children begin to walk in circles around the brazier, allowing their blood to blend together on the steep edge of the brazier as it drips towards the eggs. The blood drips slowly down the bronze metal, staining the surface red. All three children watch unblinkingly as the blood drips closer and closer to the fire and the eggs at the center.

The moment the blood makes contact with the eggs, the fire glows brighter. The light from the fire causes the three children to look away. The fire in the brazier crackles, the heat from it scorching Haeron’s skin. 

Finally, the heat dies down and Haeron looks towards the brazier. His eyes widen in amazement. In the center of the brazier curled together are three beautiful creatures. 

Haeron gently guides Rhaenys and Daenerys to look, enjoying their cries of amazement. Daenerys instantly walks up to the brazier, reaching out a hand towards a black dragon with red scales scattered across its underbelly. The dragon lets out a low purring sound as it crawls up her arm, tail swishing back and forth against her skin. 

Haeron smiles, watching as Rhaenys does the same as Dany. A black dragon with deep purple underbelly scales crawls onto her arm, leaving only one dragon in the brazier. 

Haeron slowly walks towards the creature, eyes not leaving it. The creature turns to look at him, golden-brown eyes locking with purple. Haeron feels a presence pushing against his mind but ignores it, too focused on the dragon to care. He slowly holds out his arm, trying to keep it from trembling. The dragon cocks it’s head at him for a moment before placing one clawed paw on his arm. The contact lights a fire within Haeron, sending an electric charge through his body. The claws dig gently into his skin, not hard enough to draw blood. 

Haeron watches as the small creature spreads its wings, gasping at the underside of the leathery wings. They are black with golden scales scattered throughout, reminding Haeron of a midnight sky. The dragon crawls further up his arm, each step sending another jolt through him. 

Soon, the dragon comes to a stop on Haeron’s shoulder, eyes still not leaving his. A low purr leaves the magnificent creature’s mouth as it gently presses its maw against Haeron’s cheek. 

What feels like minutes later, the door to the room slowly opens. Rhaella and Lyanna walk in, intending to tuck the children into bed. Instead, they freeze, jaws dropping in disbelief. 

Haeron smiles at his mother, “Hello, mother.” 

Lyanna stutters, “Wha…how?” 

Haeron smiles softly, “Fire and Blood mother, Fire and Blood.” 

Rhaella steps forward, a lone tear sliding down her cheek. “May I?” 

Haeron nods slowly, “Yes, but be careful. I do not know how he will react.” 

Rhaella nods, edging her way towards him. The dragon perched on Haeron’s shoulder turns to look at the woman, intelligent golden eyes following her path towards him. 

The dragon spreads its wings, beating them briefly before settling down once more. Rhaella reaches out with a trembling hand, slowly turning away as her hand nears. 

The dragon watches the hand near it but doesn’t try to avoid it. Eventually, the dragon brushes it’s maw against Rhaella’s palm briefly before pulling back. 

His grandmother sobs quietly, “Rhaegar would have loved to see this.” 

Haeron nods sadly, wishing his father were here to see this triumphant moment. 

“What will you name him, Hae?” His mother asks. 

Haeron looks at the dragon on his shoulder, coming to a conclusion. “Saegar to honor my father.” He says, gently rubbing a finger under the dragon’s chin. In his mind, he thinks, “ _And to honor Sirius. I may never see him again but he will never be far from my side._ ”

Rhaella nods, “A good name.” She turns to the two girls. “What about you two?” 

Rhaenys says, “I am going to name mine Rhaegon. To honor my father and my baby brother who was never given a chance.”  
Rhaella nods, turning towards her daughter. “What about you, Dany?” 

The silver-haired girl smiles at the dragon on her shoulder. “Baleria.” 

A laugh leaves Rhaella’s mouth, “After the Black Dread? A powerful name.” 

Daenerys nods, “And after my brother’s first wife.” 

Rhaella nods softly, smiling at her daughter.

Haeron laughs, “Saegar, Rhaegon, and Baleria. The world won’t know what hits them.” 

The other Targaryens in the room laugh. The three dragons let out a roar at the same time, the sounds bouncing off the walls of the manse. All four members of the King’s Guard run into the room, Jon Connington with them. 

When they see the dragons, all four bow. “Blood of my blood,” Connington says. 

Haeron laughs. “Rise. We have a lot to do.” 

**_Location: Winterfell, Westeros. Time: Continuation._ **

**_——_ Eddard Stark POV——**

Eddard walks through the halls of Winterfell, his legs carrying him towards his wife’s chambers. “ _I am so sorry, Cat. I missed the birth of our second son._ ” 

Ser Rodrik walks just behind him, a tired expression on his face. A young boy walks with Ser Rodrik, casting nervous glances around him. 

When he reaches his wife’s chambers, he places Ice in Ser Rodrik’s hands. He turns to the little boy, “Welcome to Winterfell, Theon. Ser Rodrik, take him to meet Robb.” The man nods his head and walks away, Theon close behind him. 

Ned enters the room, his eyes are unable to see anything in the darkened chamber. He walks over to a candle and lights it, glancing around once more. His eyes fall upon a small figure pressed against his wife’s side. 

He walks over to the bed, gently running a hand down his wife’s back. Catelyn Stark slowly blinks her eyes open, a smile appearing when she sees him. “Welcome back, Ned.” 

Ned smiles back, “May I?” He asks, pointing at the small boy pressed against her side. 

Catelyn nods, “Of course. Lord Stark, meet Brandon Stark.” 

Ned smiles, holding out his arms. Catelyn gently places the small child in his arms. “Why is he not in the nursery?” He asks. 

Catelyn smiles sadly, “Bran has nightmares. No one knows what they are as he can’t tell us but whatever they are, they terrify him.” 

Ned frowns, looking down at the small boy in his arms. “When did the nightmares begin?” 

“On his first birthday. That was the night he was placed in the nursery with Arya for the first time. Instead, I wake up to the sound of screaming. Poor Arya was terrified too. I ask that you allow him to stay with me.” 

Ned sighs, “Of course. I need to go talk to Maester Luwin.” He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his wife’s forehead, handing the child back to her.

He takes a deep breath as he exits the room, wishing more than anything that he could stay with his wife. 

He walks to Maester Luwin’s quarters and knocks on the door. A few moments later, the man opens the door, bowing his head when he sees Ned. “Welcome back, Lord Stark.” 

Ned nods, “May I come in?” 

Luwin nods, “Of course, Lord Stark.” 

The man opens the door wider, allowing Ned to enter. Ned walks in, confusion crossing his face when he sees the window open and a large metal object pointing out of it. 

Ned walks over to it. “What is this, Maester?” 

The man smiles, “That, my lord, is a telescope. It allows me to see stuff far away. Go ahead, look through it.” 

Ned leans down, pressing his eye to the small end of the device. His eyes take a minute to adjust to the device, but when they do he gasps. “Is…is that what I think it is?” Ned asks. 

Maester Luwin nods, “I believe so, Lord Stark.” 

Ned looks back through it, his mind racing at the bright red object glowing in the sky. “ _Could it be? Could Haeron have brought dragons back into this world?_ ”

Ned turns to the Maester, “Do not tell anyone what that is.” 

The Maester looks confused but nods, “Alright, Lord Stark. I will do as you bid me. May I ask why you do not want anyone to know what it symbolizes?” 

Ned sighs, “The king…is not well. Anything that reminds him of the Targaryens scares him. I am sure the Lord Baelish has spies here. If Robert thinks that there _might_ be dragons in the world once more, he might try and send his army to Essos to search for ghosts.”

Luwin nods his head in understanding. “I understand, Lord Stark.” 

Ned nods, “Good. Now that isn’t why I was here. I just visited my wife and my son. What is wrong with Brandon?” 

Luwin shakes his head, “I am afraid I do not know, Lord Stark. The evening of his first birthday he awoke half of Winterfell with his screams of terror. As I am sure Lady Catelyn told you, we probably won’t know what he sees until he can tell us.” 

Ned sighs, nodding. “Alright. Thank you, Maester Luwin.” 

Ned walks to the door, closing it behind him. To his surprise, Ser Rodrik stands with a letter in his hand. “A letter for you, Lord Stark.” 

Ned takes the letter into his hand, unraveling it. His eyes widen as he reads it before he sighs, “Ready a horse for me, Ser Rodrik.” 

The man nods and walks away. Ned rereads the message: 

_Dear Lord Stark,_

_I request that Lord Stark travel north. I have news that he will find interesting. Winter is coming, Lord Stark. I await your arrival at Castle Black eagerly._

_Maester Aemon of the Night’s Watch._

Ned sighs, slight annoyance causing him to hesitate. “ _I just got back. My son is over a year old and I have only held him once. My youngest daughter is two and I have yet to be a father to her. Robb is seven and I have been to busy to train him in anything._ ” 

He sighs again, his sense of duty forcing him to walk towards his wife’s chambers once more.

After explaining to his wife what he has to do, he walks to the gates of Winterfell once more. Ser Rodrik hands him the reins of his horse before climbing on another horse. 

The two men set out for Castle Black, Ned looking at his home forlornly as he rides away from it. 


	7. Chapter Seven(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M.

 **Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter.

**Chapter Seven(Training)**

**_Location: Castle Black, The North. Time: Two Weeks Later._ **

**——Eddard Stark POV——**

Ned pulls his fur coat tighter around his body, a frigid breeze billowing against his skin. He looks up, eyes flitting across the horizon. The view is immaculate, like nothing you could find anywhere else.

Ned takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts as he does so. His arrival at Castle Black had been a shock to the Lord Commander who Maester Aemon had not informed of summoning Ned.

He remembers the Lord Commander’s face when he had ridden in the gate at Castle Black, not at all impressed with the situation of the upkeep of the key location. Remembers how Jeor Mormont had led him quickly into a small room lit with a candle flame, handing him a warm mug of bland ale.

Ned’s thoughts travel to that of his family, a depressed sigh leaving his lips as he thinks about his daughter and newborn son. Neither of them even know what their father is like, Arya only having seen him for a few moments and Bran even less so. “ _Why did Maester Aemon summon me?”_ Ned thinks, still coming to no conclusions as to why the man had called him further north. “ _Could it have something to do with the mysterious red object glowing in the sky?_ ”

Ned sighs, shaking his head a moment later, “ _No, Maester Aemon is nearly blind. And if someone else here knew the significance of that red object, Robert would already be on the warpath. He must have called me for another reason._ ”

Behind him, a familiar voice says, “Well, look who it is. Finally decided to join, eh?”

Ned smiles wryly, turning around to grasp his brother’s arm in greeting. “Benjen. It’s good to see you.”

Benjen smiles, “You too, brother. How’s the family?”

Ned’s smile falls away and he sighs once more, “I don’t really know, Benjen. I haven’t really been at Winterfell recently. I don’t even know my daughter or youngest son.”

Benjen places a hand on Ned’s shoulder, “You are doing the best you can, Ned. When your king summons you, you don’t really have a choice to obey. How is Robert? I haven’t seen that man in years.”

Ned shakes his head, his expression turning worried, “He is not good, Benjen. He is becoming more and more lackluster in his duties as king, choosing to focus on whores and drinks instead.”

Benjen nods, “I wish I could say his behavior comes as a shock to me but it doesn’t. That man never should have become king. He just isn’t meant to rule in politics. He is meant for the field of battle.” Benjen pauses, shaking his head. “No matter. He is king now and there is nothing we can do about it.”

Ned turns to look past Benjen, making sure that there isn’t anyone listening in on their conversation. He leads his brother closer to the edge of the wall and says, “There is something I need to tell you, brother. Something I should have told you years ago.”

Benjen frowns, “What is it?”  
“You have to understand that I could not risk Robert learning about their existence. I was worried that if I spoke about it, someone would overhear me and he would find out.”

Benjen raises a hand to stop his brother’s uncharacteristic rambling. “Ned, get to the point.”

“Robert does not have the best claim to the throne,” Ned says in a quiet voice.

Benjen’s eyes widen in shock, “What?!” He exclaims a little too loudly.

Ned raises a finger to his lips, “Shh! No one can hear this.”

Benjen nods, taking a deep breath before telling Ned to continue.

“A true Targaryen Heir survived Robert’s culling.” Ned continues, still nearly whispering.

Benjen shakes his head, “I am sorry, Ned. That isn’t possible. Rhaegar’s children are dead along with Elia Martell, killed by the Lannisters at King’s Landing. Viserys Targaryen was executed a few weeks later. Rhaella Targaryen disappeared before her brother’s murder and has not been heard from since.”

Ned shakes his head, flinching slightly in preparation for his brother’s reaction to his next words. “Rhaegar has another son and he survived.”

Benjen cocks his head in surprise, “What? No, Elia Martell and Rhaegar announced that they were unable to have more children.”

Ned takes a deep breath, “Elia wasn’t this boy’s mother.”

Benjen looks at his brother in confusion, “Are you saying Rhaegar took a paramour? Ned, the lords would never accept a Targaryen bastard on the throne.”

Ned shakes his head again, “No Benjen, Rhaegar married again. The child is a true born Targaryen heir and is the true heir to the Iron Throne.”

Benjen’s eyes fly open, “Who could have captured the heart of the Silver Prince?”

Ned sighs, “As I said, I am sorry I did not tell you this sooner.”

Benjen narrows his eyes, “Tell me what?”

“I never meant for anyone to suffer when I made my decision not to tell anyone.” Ned pauses for a brief moment. “Our sister was not kidnapped, Benjen. She went with the Silver Prince willingly and married him. She bore his child and named him Haeron Targaryen.”

Benjen does not react for a few moments before he seems to blink. He asks in a dangerously calm voice, “You are telling me that _our_ sister chose to run away with _Rhaegar Targaryen?_ That isn’t possible. Our sister would never have betrayed her House and the North.”

Ned sadly shakes his head, “She did. Don’t you remember the Tourney of Harrenhal? Surely you didn’t miss the way Rhaegar was looking at Lyanna when he crowned her the Queen of Love and Beauty. Also, our dear sister saw it as a good way to escape from her impending marriage to Robert.”

Benjen looks deep in thought and a moment later he says, “Well then, brother. If Rhaegar didn’t actually kidnap Lyanna, what happened to cause the war?”

Ned sighs, “Lyanna may have willingly gone with Rhaegar but that doesn’t mean the rest of Westeros would have accepted that union. If our father had known she went willingly, he may not have gone to King’s Landing and Aerys may not have killed him to set off a war. Either way, it has all already happened.”

Benjen nods slowly, “Where is Haeron now?”

Ned takes a deep breath again. “Once more, I am sorry for keeping this from you.”

Benjen takes a step towards his brother, “What, Ned?”

“Haeron Targaryen was in Pentos with…” Ned hesitates. “With his mother, grandmother, aunt, and half-sister.”

Benjen staggers backward, luckily away from the edge of the wall. “Lyanna…Lyanna _lives_?” Benjen chokes out. “But…how? How did no one learn of her survival?”  
Ned sighs, “Because everyone trusts my honor, not believing me capable of a lie.”

Benjen nods, “That they do. I can’t tell you how many times someone has said something along the lines of how honorable you are to me, brother.” He pauses. “So…grandmother? Rhaella survived too? Interesting. Aunt? Ah, Rhaella must have given birth again to a girl.”

“Daenerys.” Ned supplies.

Benjen nods, “Daenerys.” Benjen then frowns. “Half-sister, though. I can’t think of who that would be. A child of Elia’s? Is that even possible?”

Ned nods, “Rhaenys Targaryen. The firstborn child of Rhaegar and Elia.”

Benjen sighs, “How did that happen? I have heard how the Lannisters presented their bodies to Robert upon his arrival at King’s Landing, including little Rhaenys.”

Ned nods, “I thought the same until I spoke to the Spider.”

Benjen looks at his brother in surprise, “Varys? Really? What did he do?”  
Ned says, “He replaced baby Rhaenys with another child from King’s Landing of Valyrian descent. Tywin’s…dog, Gregor Clegane bashed the child’s head in so they never would have been able to tell that it wasn’t Rhaenys.”

Benjen lets out a low whistle, “The Spider always has been crafty. Though that might take the cake. He kept Princess Rhaenys alive without anyone being any wiser.”

Ned nods, “Yes, the man is extremely crafty, though he does make me nervous. His knowledge of seemingly everything seems impossible through normal means.”

Benjen frowns, “What are you suggesting? You can’t possibly be suggesting that he has some sort of abilities, can you?”

Ned doesn’t react, “Come on, Benjen. Don’t you wonder how he gets his information so quickly and without anyone really seeing his informants? I think he might be some form of weak Warg.”

Benjen laughs, though he slowly stops when Ned doesn’t join in. “You can’t be serious.”

Ned nods, “I am. And Lord Varys refers to his informants as _little birds_. I think he might be able to Warg into small birds.”

Benjen shakes his head, “I have never known you to believe in fiction, Ned.”

Ned shakes his head and gestures at the red object in the sky, “Come on, Benjen. You are the one who goes beyond the wall. You can’t tell me you haven’t seen anything unnatural.”

Benjen doesn’t refute the statement and Ned continues, “And that red orb in the sky, do you remember what it is said to indicate?”  
Benjen scoffs, “There is no way someone brought dragons back. I doubt they ever existed in the first place.”

Ned shakes his head, “Do not underestimate the Targaryens. Especially when they have the Blood of the North combined with their Dragon’s Blood.”

Benjen goes to respond but the two are cut off by someone clearing their throat behind them. Ned turns and sees the Lord Commander.

“Yes, Lord Commander?”

“I apologize for the interruption, Lord Stark. Maester Aemon is requesting your presence in his quarters.”

Ned turns to face his brother, grabbing his arm in farewell once more before following the Lord Commander to the wooden elevator.

As the wooden device descends, the Lord Commander says, “Once more, I apologize for our lax preparations upon your arrival, Lord Stark. I was not aware you were coming.”

Ned waves a hand in dismissal, “That is partly on me, Lord Commander. I should have sent a raven when I set out to come here.”

The Lord Commander nods and silence falls other than the creaking of the elevator. The snow that falls around them creates an eerily quiet aura to the Castle. As the elevator reaches the bottom, the sound of metal clanging together sounds, followed by loud voices.

The Lord Commander flinches when he hears the voices, almost as if not wanting Ned to hear them.

Then, Ned begins to hear the words spoken and understands why. “Do better, you fucking bitch!”

That exclamation is followed by a scream of pain. The Lord Commander does not move to head in the direction of the sounds, but Ned does. The Lord Commander says, “I will handle them, Lord Stark. The Maester is expecting you.”

Ned waves a hand at the man and continues towards the sound, the Lord Commander close behind him. When he reaches the source of the noise, his eyes narrow dangerously at what he sees.

Two tall boys stand over a small one, relentlessly raining down blows with their training swords on his armor. While the swords won’t pierce skin, the blows will leave behind bruises and welts.

Ned takes a threatening step forward but before he can, the Lord Commander calls out, “Cade! Avery!”

The two boys look up, their eyes widening in fear when they see Ned standing next to the Lord Commander.

They both take a step away from the fallen boy and Ned walks forward, offering a hand to the boy. The boy hesitantly looks up at him, a few tears rolling down one side of his face in pain and humiliation.

Ned pulls the boy to his feet, helping the boy hobble over to another man. The other man carries the boy into another door.

Ned walks back to the Lord Commander, interested to appraise the man’s punishment of the two boys. He arrives in the middle of the elder Mormont’s rant, “…believe the nerve of you two! That man is your brother! He eats at your side! He sleeps and shits at your side! If it comes to it, he will die at your side! The fact that you are going out of your way to make one of your brothers suffer is disgusting to me. You may have been sent here as punishment for past crimes or to earn honor. I couldn’t care less which one it is, if both of you do not try and turn your attitudes around, I will be forced to label both of you as inadequate.”

Ned’s eyes widen. Labeling members of the Night’s Watch as inadequate is something that almost never happens because the Night’s Watch is low enough on members at it is.

Ned’s eyes look around the rest of the compound, landing on a man who is just standing in place. His hair is unruly and he glares at the spot where the boys were. “ _Did that man arrive after all of this happened or did he watch it all unfold? I hope for his sake it was the former._ ”

Ned turns and follows the Lord Commander away from the compound, ignoring the looks of awe the two boys give him. He follows the Lord Commander until they come to a small wooden door in a dark corridor.

Jeor Mormont bows his head to Lord Stark, “I am so sorry you witnessed that, My Lord. The two boys will be punished.”

Ned’s eyes narrow, “I should hope so.”

Ned knocks on the door and hears a quiet, “Come in.”

He gently pushes the door open, closing the door behind him. “Welcome, Lord Stark. May I suggest you light a few candles? I don’t light them myself because I do not need them. My vision is dark either way.”

Ned nods and walks over to the only lit candle in the room, carrying it to a few other candles to light them before placing it back in its original spot.

“Do you know why I have summoned you, Lord Stark?”

Ned shakes his head before realizing the gesture is useless and saying, “No, Maester.”

The old man slowly rises from his spot in a wooden chair, his limbs shaking as he does so. “I was afraid to say too much in my letter in fear of it being intercepted. I apologize if I drew you away from your family.”

Ned responds, “It is alright, Maester. I am sure my trip will be well worth it.”

The Maester chuckles slightly, though he is cut off by a fit of coughing. “I must know, Lord Stark. Is it true that some of my family still lives?”

Ned frowns, wondering how the old Maester learned about survivors. Nonetheless, he answers, “Yes, Maester. Would you like to know who lives?”  
The old man nods his head slowly, “Rhaella Targaryen survives and gave birth to a daughter, Daenerys. Rhaenys Targaryen, Rhaegar’s daughter with Elia, was saved by Lord Varys. And…my sister, Lyanna Stark survives with her son, Haeron Targaryen. The Targaryen Heir.”

Aemon smiles at the information, “So my family may be on the path to its former power, then. Good. A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.”

Ned nods and silence falls for a few moments, “Is it true?” Aemon asks.

Ned frowns, “Is what true, Maester?”  
“Is it true that the red star is in the sky? Is it true that dragons may once more walk the Earth?”

Ned smiles softly, “Yes, Maester. I have no confirmation on the existence of the dragons but the red star seems to indicate that they do indeed exist once more.”

The old man walks towards a shelf of books and reaches behind it, his shaking limbs knocking a few books off in the process. Ned watches the man in confusion as he rummages around behind the shelf for a moment before pulling something out.

With a clang, a sword falls to the wooden floor. Ned walks forward, curiosity getting the better of him. “May I?” He asks.

The Maester nods, “Be my guest, Lord Stark.”

Ned reaches down and picks up the blade, a gasp of shock leaving his lips when he sees the pommel. “Is this…?”

Aemon lets out a chuckle, “The fabled sword once wielded by Aegon the Conqueror? Yes, that is Blackfyre.”

Ned looks down at the beautiful sword, the blade making Ice look like nothing in comparison. Ned slowly draws the sword out of its black leather sheathe, his eyes running up and down the beautiful blade. “Why are you showing this to me, Maester?”

The man sighs, “I would like for you to give it to young Haeron when he arrives. It is the sword of a conqueror and Haeron will need its help.”

Ned frowns, “Why wouldn’t you wait to give this to him yourself?”  
The old man chuckles without humor, “I wish more than anything to be able to say I could do that, but look at me, Lord Stark. My days are numbered and Haeron is still far too young to invade. I pray to the gods of Old Valyria to let me meet my family, but I am not sure if I will live that long.”

Ned looks at the old man sadly, wishing he could do something for him. His mind briefly flashes to the apparent sorcery Haeron had used to save Lyanna’s life but he dismisses it. Haeron had saved the life of a healthy, young woman. He doubted he could do the same for an old man nearing expiration due to natural causes.

Ned places the sword against a wooden table and turns to face the Maester once more. “Is there anything else you would like for me to give Haeron if you are unable to?”

The Maester nods, “Yes, Lord Stark. I would like for you to inform you of the wooden chest buried beneath the floorboards of this room. I do not wish for you to take it with you as it is far too risky for them to fall into the wrong hands.”

Ned goes to ask what is in the chest but Aemon holds up a hand, “I am afraid I will not say what the chest holds, only that its contents are extremely valuable. Haeron will know what to do with them when he receives them.”

Ned nods, not willing to push the Maester for more information. “Anything else?”

Aemon turns to look out a small window, “Yes.” He says softly. “Inform my family of my existence and give him this if I have passed on.” Aemon hands Lord Stark a piece of paper with words already written on it.

They read, “Be careful, young dragons. The flame of Dragon’s Fire may be one of the most potent weapons on this planet and the power you may possess may tempt you to change your morals. Please, young ones, remember who you are. No matter what you are forced to do in war, do not allow the feeling of power and control to take control of your actions. Remember the motto of our House, but never use your power on the innocent.”

Ned looks sadly at the old man, sensing just how much the man wants to meet his family. “ _Oh, Haeron. I hope you return soon enough to meet this man. It would mean the world to him._ ”

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Meereen. Time: Five Years Later._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron grins as he parries a blow from Rhaenys’ sword, the echo from the blow ringing in his ears. “Come now, sister. Don’t let me beat you too easily.”

His sister’s dark eyes narrow, “Be careful what you wish for, brother.”

Her blows become faster and more precise, forcing Haeron back a few steps as he races to deflect all of the blows. He quickly finds an opening where his sister overextends herself and launches a thrust at it. However, his sister gracefully dodges the attack with a high leap over his head, flipping in the process. “Two can play that game, dear sister,” Haeron mutters.

He flips over her head quickly, though Rhaenys seems to have been ready for it as she swings her sword at him. Haeron is barely able to deflect it, landing on his feet far from cleanly. He stumbles briefly but is still able to dodge his sister’s attacks.

He stands up and swings his sword in a vicious downward stroke, causing Rhaenys to curse when the blow knocks her sword out of her hand.

She gracefully rolls under Haeron’s next strike, picking up the blade and turning back to face Haeron. A voice from behind them calls out, “Alright, alright. Enough, you two. You can beat each other up later.”

The two stop fighting and turn to see Jamie Lannister and Arthur Dayne walking towards them, Daenerys following close behind.

Rhaenys pouts, “I was about to beat you.” She mutters to Haeron.

Haeron grins, nudging her side with his own. “Sure you were, Rhae.”

The girl rolls her eyes in return, though Haeron can see the corner of her lips turn up.

Arthur Dayne interrupts, “You are both improving but still have a long way to go if you are to fight in battle. Ser Jamie and I will be stepping up your training starting now because you need to be prepared as soon as possible.”

Haeron and Rhaenys nod, Daenerys walking forwards to stand at their sides. The three Targaryen children had only grown closer over the years since hatching their dragons, the ritual they used that bonded their blood in fire connecting them on an even deeper level.

The connection ran so deep that the children often could sense the emotions they were thinking.

Haeron follows Arthur’s example, repeating the same motions as the legendary swordsman. Rhaenys follows as well, while Daenerys struggles slightly. The silver-haired girl wasn’t cut out for sword combat, preferring her bow and arrow over the crude, close-range weapons. However, the three children had agreed that they all needed to master any form of combat they may need.

Ser Arthur walks over to Haeron and places his hands on the young king’s shoulders. “Your grace, look at me.”

Haeron looks into the eyes of the Sword of the Morning, trying his best not to flinch at the intensity of the gaze.

“If you are to conquer Westeros, you will need to be the greatest swordsman alive. You must be completely confident in your ability to win any battle should you be forced into them. I understand that you will have dragons and you have your powers, but you will need to be an expert, a _prodigy_ if you are to follow in your ancestor’s steps.”

Haeron nods. Arthur continues, “I am not saying you aren’t already talented, because you are. Perhaps even more talented than I was at your age. But that isn’t enough. I am telling you all of this because the training you are going to endure for these next few years is going to be intense. I want you to be as prepared as you can be when you finally begin your conquest. Do you understand?”

Haeron nods again. Arthur smiles, “Good. Princess Rhaenys, come here please.”

The tall Dornish beauty walks over to them, her body has changed a lot in five years much like Haeron’s. Her skin remained its sun-kissed brown color, her dark hair growing longer until it touched her shoulders. She keeps it tied back in a ponytail, not wanting it to affect her fighting. Her curves increased too, though not by much. Her body remained in prime fighting form, her assets not oversized in a way that could take away from her combat. Her height was the main factor that her grandmother and stepmother were curious about. She quickly grew to be taller than Jamie and by her sixteenth birthday, she was as tall as anyone at the Targaryen Mance. Though that didn’t last long once Haeron began to grow. Her dark eyes grew wiser, and perhaps, a little harsher.

Once the children had hatched their dragons, they hand changed. It was almost as if the instant the dragons hatched, the trio had grown up. All three were less playful and more focused on studying their newfound capabilities of magic and training their dragons.

Daenerys also grew, though her body was more refined and not as tall as her niece’s. She is still taller than most children her age, a fact Haeron had attributed to the magic they all possessed. Her silver hair became longer much like Rhaenys’, though unlike Rhaenys, Daenerys did not like to tie it back. Instead, she had found a certain way to cut it where it would not get in her way. Her purple eyes grew an even darker violet, making it impossible to doubt her descent from the blood of Old Valyria. Her pale skin and delicate features aged well, turning her into a true beauty. Somehow, the Meereen sun didn’t affect the color of her skin, while keeping it healthy and giving it a beautiful glow. Like Rhaenys, her eyes grew colder and more distant, something that Rhaella and Lyanna didn’t like to see.

Haeron is a different story entirely. His body grew at incredible speeds, quickly filling out in ways he never even knew were possible. Due to the extensive training, he took place in with Daenerys and Rhaenys, his body is incredibly muscled and strong. His strength and speed were enhanced by his training and by using a tiny amount of magic to enhance his capabilities. This was something Haeron had originally done unintentionally after a long day of training, transferring some of his wellspring of power directly into his limbs.

His physical appearance had also taken his by surprise as he had begun to grow. He quickly became a very threatening figure, his silver hair hanging down to just above his shoulders. His pale skin quickly became a darker color in the sunlight of Meereen, however, though it is far from the color of Rhaenys’ Dornish skin. His chest is broad and powerful. Haeron couldn’t believe his appearance as he grew up, remembering his mediocre-at-best appearance as Harry Potter. He knew that his new body was _far_ superior to his old one in _every_ way.

While the three children grew, so did their dragons. Haeron watches happily as the three massive black shapes fly high overhead, going in and out of clouds.

Rhaegon’s body is now roughly the size of a small transport ship. His massive frame was enhanced by the glow of the purple on his black wings in the sunlight of Meereen. Like his rider, he quickly grew in size. His fire, though still not very strong, is a powerful mixture of swirling black shot through with purple. His eyes glow in the light of his fire, a terrifying, evil maroon color.

Baleria quickly began to live up to her namesake, her size surpassing that of Rhaegon. Her black hide is littered with small red scales that glow like fire under the sunlight. Her size could be compared to that of a small ship out of the Iron Fleet, though she still wasn’t fully in control of herself, unused to her massive frame. Her and Daenerys were perfect for each other. Where Daenerys was calm and quiet, Baleria quickly made up for. Her roar echos for miles around when she chooses, making the Targaryens glad they are so far from anyone who could hear them. Her eyes, like that of Rhaegon, glow in the light of a fire in a piercing red color.

Saegar is a whole other story. His frame had far surpassed that of Rhaegon and he is a little bit bigger than Baleria, though not by much. His black scales glittered with molten fire under the sunlight, sometimes bright enough to cause Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys to have to look away from his scales. Haeron loves to take care of his dragon, oftentimes going for long flights with Daenerys and Rhaenys until early in the morning. Saegar’s personality is also an amazing trait. His intelligence is amazing as he seemingly can understand words spoken in any tongue.

Haeron grins as his thoughts come to an end, though one more thought trickles through.

Haeron remembers the first night they had gotten their dragons and his attempt to speak to the dragons in the language of the snakes. He remembers his clear disappointment when his efforts had proven futile. The only language all three dragons seemed to clearly understand is High Valyrian.

Haeron is shaken from his thoughts when Rhaenys taps on his shoulder, “Hae,” she hisses. “Have you been paying attention at all?”

Haeron looks around himself, blinking a few times to clear his mind. He suddenly remembers where he is and looks down at the ground, “Sorry, Ser Arthur. I have a lot on my mind.”

The King’s Guard shakes his head, “It is alright, Your Grace. You have all three worked hard today. Go. Get some rest. Be here tomorrow at the usual time.”

Haeron nods, placing his sword back on the rack. Then he, Dany, and Rhae walk back into the manse. The three walk back to their quarters, all three excited for their daily bath.

Once they reach their room, they close and bolt the door behind them, making their way to the already filled tub. Steam rises from the surface of the water, indicating that it was recently filled.

Haeron walks over to a small wardrobe they keep in the bathroom, pulling out three towels. He turns back to face Dany and Rhae, noticing their already nude state. He places the towels on a small wooden table next to the tub and strips off his sweaty, dusty clothes. He places the clothes in a small basket along with Dany and Rhae’s clothes before stepping into the water.

He lets out a relieved groan at the feel of the warm water against his exhausted muscles. He may be incredibly fit, but he was still growing into his new body. Across from him, Daenerys and Rhaenys gently step into the water.

Rhaenys lets out a low moan, a sound that Haeron’s body reacts to without him wanting it to. Over the past few years, he had seen both girls naked hundreds of times, and nothing had really happened. However, as he had gotten older and begun to notice how truly beautiful the two girls were, his body had begun to react.

“ _I know it is the Targaryen way to support incest and I know Fate told me that the dragon’s blood in my veins would draw me to them, but I always assumed I would be able to resist the pull. I never imagined it would be this strong. Even as Harry Potter, I do not remember a time where my body reacted like this to anyone._ ”

The three Targaryen children sit in silence for a few more minutes, the warm water continuing to massage their aching muscles. Haeron soon begins to clean his body, taking a small white cloth and gently pressing it into the water. He begins to rub off the dust-caked onto his skin, turning the water around him a little grittier with sand.

He continues to clean his body, placing the towel down after a moment. He closes his eyes and leans back, sinking his hair underwater to get most of the dust out. When he resurfaces, a surprised gasp leaves his mouth when Rhaenys appears right in front of him. Her curves are mostly hidden underwater, the bubbles aiding in hiding her whole form.

However, just the close proximity to his older sister leaves desire flooding through him. “Let me help you, brother,” Rhaenys says.

Haeron nods, slowly turning to face the edge of the tub. He rests his arms on the stone edge, placing his chin on his arms. Behind him, Rhaenys begins to run her soft fingers gently through his silver hair. The feeling is not new as Rhaenys often offers to help Haeron clean his hair.

Haeron closes his eyes, willing his body not to react too much to her electric touch. Her fingers continue to soothingly run through his hair, removing any tangles from it. She then reaches around Haeron to grab soap from the edge of the tub, her breasts briefly pressing against his back and her groin against his rear.

The action causes both to let out nearly inaudible moans, though both hear each other. They both choose not the mention the sound, Rhaenys taking the soap and putting some on her hands. She resumes her previous efforts, putting soap into Haeron’s hair.

A few moments later, she gently tugs on the back of Haeron’s hair, telling him to lean backward. He does, keeping his eyes closed. Her fingers run through his hair a few more times until she taps on his back, telling him to sit up.

The two switch place without a word, Haeron beginning to run his fingers through his sister's silky black hair. Daenerys swims over to sit next to the two, her eyes watching Haeron’s methodic motions as he cleans his sister’s hair.

Haeron repeats the same process that Rhaenys followed, washing her hair thoroughly. Then, Rhaenys moves behind Daenerys and does the same to her.

Once all three Targaryens are completely clean, they exit the tub and place the towels around their bodies. They walk over to the adjacent bedroom, to a small closet. Each has their own section of the closet filled with the kind of clothes they like.

Haeron selects a thin, black shirt and some comfortable shorts, pulling them on. Rhaenys and Daenerys both choose nightdresses, Rhaenys selecting a dark grey one and Daenerys a purple one.

Exhausted, the three slowly make their way to the large bed, still, no words needing to be said. The three are so in tune with one another and their routine that they effortlessly find the right positions in bed.

Haeron crawls in first, lying on his left side. Daenerys gets in next, pressing her back to Haeron’s and curling into Haeron’s side. Her rear presses gently against Haeron’s groin, something that though exciting for him, Haeron is used to the feeling.

Rhaenys gets in behind Haeron, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her chin on his back.

Silence falls over the two, none of them making a sound. The door to their room creaks open and Lyanna walks in. She smiles at the usual sight before her, happy her son has his sister and aunt to keep him company. She walks to their bedside and presses kisses to each of their foreheads, whispering goodnight.

Then she exits the room, leaving the Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys to get as much sleep as they can before rising for an early breakfast.

Haeron takes a deep breath, a small smile on his face at the feel of the two girls against him. “ _I cannot imagine a life without these two, now. I actually can’t. I will not lose either of them. If anyone asks for either of them in marriage, I will burn them._ ”

With that last thought, the future king of Westeros drifts off, pressed together with the other pieces of his heart…

**A/N.**

**First off, I am so sorry for the long wait. College has hit me hard and I needed time to get used to my new schedule.**

**I hope this chapter somewhat made up for that.**

** A reviewer made a point that Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys would probably not be allowed to sleep the way they do realistically. While that is probably true, in my mind, Lyanna and Rhaella have accepted that the three are bonded in a unique way. Besides, they aren't yet old enough to _do_ anything...Though they are getting very close... **

**Please, PLEASE, let me know what you think and if you want more. It is the comments I receive from my readers that give me the motivation to write.**

**Explanations:**

**The conversation between Benjen and Eddard may have seemed somewhat pointless but I needed it to make a better transition to the conversation with Aemon.**

**Now, onto Aemon Targaryen. Did I write him well? I didn’t want to change him from the show, but I wrote this after only having seen the show once. My memory on him is a bit foggy.**

** Also, the chest will come back, though not for a long time. **

**The time skip has been needing to happen for a while now as I and you readers were getting bored of the redundant travel they were doing.**

**I hope the combat and the beginning of the ‘steamy’ moments were worthy of your attention.**   
  


** Character Ages After Time Skip: **

** Haeron Targaryen - 12. **

** Daenerys Targaryen - 12. **

** Rhaenys Targaryen - 16. **

**Thanks, and until next time!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is curious as to the appearance of Haeron and Rhaenys, here are the actors I am basing them on:
> 
> Haeron Targaryen: Henry Cavill's The Witcher appearance.
> 
> Rhaenys Targaryen: Tasya Teles' The 100 appearance. 
> 
> Daenerys Targaryen: Emilia Clarke's GoT appearance.


	8. Chapter Eight(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M.

 **Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter.

**Chapter Eight(Peace)**

**A/N. To better describe the time they are currently in, I am going to add a new unit for time. BSB stands for ‘Before Series Begins’ and means exactly what it says. How many years are before the HBO series begins.**

**_Location: Winterfell, Westeros. Time: Two Weeks Later(5 BSB)._ **

**——Eddard Stark POV——**

Ned smiles as he looks out over the compound at Winterfell. His son holds a small wooden sword and is locked in a play fight with his Greyjoy ward. Ned shakes his head as he looks upon young Theon Greyjoy. The boy is nothing like his father. “ _Balon Greyjoy must not have had time to get his claws into the boy before his rebellion. Theon does not seem to possess any of the values of traditional Iron Born._ ”

He hears a voice behind him and turns to see his wife walking towards him, her belly swollen as she nears the eighth moon of her pregnancy.Bran trails close behind her.

Catelyn Stark walks forward to stand at Ned’s side, following his gaze into the compound. A brief flash of irritation flashes across her face at the sight of the Greyjoy ward but she hides it well. “Robb is improving.” Ned states.

Catelyn smiles, “Of course he is. He is our son.”

Ned sighs. Catelyn’s superior attitude over everyone who wasn’t a true-born beginning to get on his nerves. For the sake of a secure marriage, Ned always decides against mentioning her bias to her in fear of shattering the strong marriage they maintain.

Though every once in a while, Ned would find his thoughts drifting to his past love. Her long, silky black hair. Her fiery demeanor and her love. Even brief flashes of the encounters they shared before his wedding to Catelyn Tully-Stark would often appear in his head while he couples with Catelyn.

Ned shakes his head in an attempt to get rid of the images but that just cements them further. “ _What have I done?_ ” Ned asks himself sadly. “ _She is dead because of me. If rumors are to be believed, she committed suicide after learning about her brother’s apparent death at the Tower of Joy. If only I had found a way to tell her her brother was not dead…_ ”

Ned sighs again, “ _It does not do to dwell on the past._ ” He chides himself, forcing his mind to focus on his son’s training. He notices his wife at his side looking at him in concern. “Are you alright, Ned?”

Ned nods, “Yes, Cat. I am alright. Just have a lot on my mind.”

She places a gentle hand on Ned’s chest, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Ned shakes his head, “I am afraid not. Thank you, Cat.”

The woman nods and says, “I am going to go check on Rickon. He is such a small thing. I worry about him if winter truly is coming.”

Ned nods, watching her walk away. Catelyn is a fine wife, but she is too southern for Ned to ever have selected by choice. Her ideals too solidified into that of Southern propaganda and beliefs. She has changed some over their long years of marriage, though she keeps her strong beliefs in her faith.

Her strong dislike for anything not true-born once again solidifies to Ned his decision to send Haeron away. If he had kept the boy, he would not have been able to tell his wife the truth because he would have had to pretend that Haeron was a bastard created out of his own lust.

Either way, Haeron’s Valyrian features would have made it impossible to keep his true origins buried. Especially if he took after his father. Ned remembers the tuft of silver hair that had adorned the boy’s head after birth, along with the bright, intelligent, _purple_ eyes.

The sound of the wooden swords slamming against one another draws Ned out of his thoughts and he looks down once more. He watches as his son places the edge of his blade under Theon’s throat, a smile on his face.

He watches as the Greyjoy reluctantly surrenders and Robb pulls him back to his feet. Behind him, the sound of footsteps causes him to turn around. Maester Luwin walks to stand before him, bowing his head in respect. “Lord Stark, pardon the interruption. I have been sent to inform you that your youngest daughter is refusing to take part in her lessons with Septa Mordane.”

Ned sighs, a small chuckle leaving his lips, “ _Lya, I wish you were here. You would love Arya. She is so much like you._ ”

He turns and follows the Maester off of the wooden overhang and into the keep itself.

When he arrives, he finds his eldest daughter calmly working on a piece of patchwork. Meanwhile, the Septa looks disapprovingly at Arya as she sits in one corner of the room, refusing to look at the Septa.

His six-year-old daughter looks up as he walks in and then runs to him, wrapping her small arms around his leg. “Please, father. Please don’t make me stay here with the Septa. She’s boring.”

Ned forces himself not to laugh, instead, kneeling down and looking his daughter in the eyes. “Come now, Arya. Don’t you want to make House Stark proud?”  
Arya pouts, “But father…” She whines.

Ned sighs, shaking his head, “I am sorry, Arya. For now, you must stay in these lessons with the Septa and you must _pay attention_.”

Arya’s grey eyes widen in horror and she gives him a sad look, “Father, please don’t make me stay! Let me train with Robb and Theon! I will work hard! Promise.”  
Ned can’t stop himself from smiling slightly this time, the similarities between Arya and Lyanna continuing to add up. “Arya…”

“Please!” She continues.

Ned hears a disgusted scoff behind him coming from his ten-year-old daughter and turns towards her. “Yes, Sansa? Do you have something to say?”

His daughter’s eyes fly open in shock but she quickly collects herself, “No, father. Forgive me, father.” She bows her head in perfect trueborn form, causing Ned to sigh again.

“ _Could my daughters be more different?_ ”

Ned turns back to face Arya, “I will tell you what. If you do your lessons with Septa Mordane well until you turn eight and she tells me that you pay attention and try, I will consider giving you some combat instruction.”

A smile splits his daughter’s face and she flings her arms around his neck, “Oh, father! Thank you! I will be good. I promise.”

Ned nods, rising back to his full height. He places a gentle hand on Arya’s back and says, “Go back to the Septa. Remember, if I hear you are not paying attention, you will not get any training.”

Arya nods, “I remember, father. Thank you.”

The little girl scampers back off towards the Septa, a new bounce in her step.

Ned walks out of the room, surprised to see Ser Rodrik walking towards him, a slip of paper clutched firmly in his right hand. “A raven from King’s Landing, my lord.”

Ned takes the slip of paper from Ser Rodrik and unrolls it, his eyes scanning across the parchment. The moment his eyes find the sender of the letter, a nearly inaudible gasp leaves his lips. “ _This has to be some sort of trick. There is no way she would ever send a letter to me. No way._ ”

Ned shakes his head, turning and walking back towards his office, thanking Ser Rodrik on the way. When he reaches his office, he places the letter on his desk and sits down heavily in his chair. He stares at the paper for a few minutes before reaching down and grabbing a slip of paper. With a deep breath, he begins to write.

It takes him a few tries to word his response the way he wants before he signs it and seals it with hot wax and stamps the House Stark Direwolf onto it.

He stands up slowly, his response clasped in one hand. With his other hand, he reaches down and picks up the other slip of paper. He walks over to the small fire in the fireplace of his office and places the letter in it, watching it turn to ashes.

Then he turns and exits his office, walking to the Winterfell Rookery. When he arrives, he quickly gets a raven from King’s Landing and then sends it on its way.

“ _Things must be getting really bad with Robert for her to turn to me. Her father must not want to move against the king. I guess I can’t fault him for that. With Robert’s condition, you have to act very carefully around him unless you want to risk his wrath._ ”

Ned walks back to the wooden overhand, looking down on the training yard once more. Robb is still in the yard, though Theon is nowhere to be seen. Ned watches proudly as Robb goes through the techniques of sword fighting before walking over to a straw dummy and beginning to practice.

Robb’s movements are slightly jerky, not flowing in a linear motion. Ned slowly walks down the wooden stairs and towards his son, the snow crunching under his boots.

Robb turns at the sound of footsteps, his eyes widening when he sees his father. “Hello, father.”

Ned smiles at his son, walking over to the rack of training swords and choosing one. Then he walks back to his son. Robb’s eyes widen, flicking between his sword and his father’s.

Ned smiles gently shifting his grip on the wooden sword. The balance on the practice weapon is not good and it is far too light for Ned’s liking but it won’t matter.

“Alright, son. Let’s see what you got.” Ned says.

Robb’s chest puffs out in pride, his red-brown hair blowing in the cool northern air. Ned watches his son nervously adjust the grip on his wooden sword.

As the two begin to spar, Ned allows his mind to continue thinking, “ _Oh, Robb. I’m so sorry I missed the early stages of your life but I am so glad I have gotten to be here for these past four years. They have been some of the best of my life._

**_Location: Targaryen Mance, Meereen. Time: One Year Later(4 YBS)_ **

**——Rhaenys Targaryen POV——**

A grin appears on Haeron’s face as he swings his sword towards Rhaenys’ chest. A growl of frustration leaves Rhaenys’ lips as she parries the blow, launching an attack of her own on her brother.

Her brother doesn’t even stumble under her onslaught, expertly deflecting or dodging every blow she sends his way. Rhaenys quickly realizes that Haeron is letting her attack in a bid to tire her out so she takes a small step back, stopping her onslaught.

Haeron grins at her, “Had enough, sister?”

Rhaenys shakes her head, “Not even close."  
She rushes back at him at an impressive speed, secretly using a small amount of her magic to speed up her movements. Haeron’s eyes narrow, “Interesting. Using magic, are we?” He says, a sly grin on his face.

Rhaenys’ eyes widen, realizing at that moment that she should not have used magic. In a brief flash and a loud pop, Haeron vanishes.

Rhaenys looks around herself, shaking her head in annoyance when Haeron remains gone. A moment later, he reappears, a cup of water in one hand. Right in front of her, he drains the entire cup, making a show of wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s not fair!” Rhaenys pouts.

Haeron shrugs, “It is not my fault you refuse to allow me to teach you to apparate.”

Rhaenys glares at him, “You know why I don’t want to learn.”

Haeron gesture with his hand, “You don’t want to risk _splinching_ yourself. Fuck. I should never have told you about that.”

“Haeron!” A disapproving voice calls out. A grin appears on Rhaenys face as she watches Lyanna approach them with Rhaella at her side.

“What did you just say, Haeron?” Lyanna asks, her hands on her hips.

Haeron gives his best innocent face. “I don’t know what you are talking about mother. I was just talking to Rhaenys about some of our magical abilities.”

Lyanna shakes her head, though Rhaenys sees the smile on her face. “Uh-huh.” Lyanna grumbles. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Haeron. You will be king one day. A king should not use those words.”

Haeron looks at Rhaenys, his eyes brimming with laughter at his mother’s lecture. Haeron holds up his cup, muttering a quick spell under his breath. Rhaenys watches as the cup magically refills, her dry mouth envious of her brother’s superior magical knowledge.

Over the past five years when they were training, Haeron had done his best to explain everything about magic to Rhaenys and Daenerys. Though his focus was more on the magic that may save their lives such as offensive and defensive spells. Hae refused to admit it but both Dany and Rhae could both tell that he didn’t know much more than them about combat spells.

The one-time Rhaenys had tried to mention that to him, she had quickly realized better. “ _That old goat who taught him on his old world must have not wanted him to know much about combat magic. I mean, he meant for Hae to die, so I guess that makes sense._ ”

There had been one day where Haeron had attempted to cast a certain spell, though he had refused to tell either Rhaenys or Daenerys what the incantation was. He used a silencing spell around where he was before attempting it, failing to even do anything.

When Daenerys had asked him what spell he was trying to use, Haeron had shaken his head and said, “Now is not the time to learn that spell. I am not capable of it. Maybe when we are older, I will try again.”

None of them had mentioned that day since then, though Rhaenys had never stopped speculating what the spell was. Haeron’s lessons in magic had revealed that a lot was made possible through magic.

Either way, the magical power of all three Targaryen children only seemed to increase with each passing day. Haeron had mentioned to both Dany and Rhae that he believed they were becoming so powerful because of their Dragon’s Blood, the bond the three share, and their bond to the dragons.

Rhaenys is snapped back into reality when she gets a cup of cold water in the face. Her dark eyes snap open, narrowing at the laughing faces of Haeron, Lyanna, and Rhaella.

Footsteps come from behind them and she turns to see Daenerys walking towards them, a satisfied smile on her face. Ser Gerold walks close behind her, a crestfallen expression on his face.

Rhaenys and Haeron both walk over to Daenerys and Rhaenys asks, “I take it you did it?”  
Daenerys nods excitedly, “Yep. Finally. It certainly took me long enough.”

Haeron wraps an arm around his aunt’s shoulders, “We don’t blame you for taking a long time to beat him, Dany. We know that sword fighting is not your specialty. Besides, you are obviously far above an average sword fighter if you beat a member of Rhaegar Targaryen’s King’s Guard.”

Rhaenys laughs, “Now you can join Hae and me as we attempt to take down Ser Jamie.”

Daenerys laughs, “Alright. He won’t stand a chance now."  
Haeron sighs, “I don’t know. He is annoyingly good. Not quite at Ser Arthur’s level, but he is pretty close.”

Rhaenys nods in agreement. “Yeah. Though we have all agreed to not enhance our movement or prowess magically so we could beat him if we actually need to.”

Haeron nods, though his expression turns serious when he senses a brief flash of surprise through his bond with Saegar. He can tell Rhaenys and Daenerys felt something from their dragons too, and the three quickly turns and sprint towards the part of the manse’s grounds where the dragons stay.

When they get there, all three rush to their respective dragons, Rhaenys gently placing a hand on Rhaegon’s maw. The massive black and purple dragon lets out a low growl at the sound that Rhaenys recognizes as his sound of gratitude. In Valyrian, Rhaenys asks softly, “ _Skoros iksis pirta?_ (What is wrong?)”

Rhaegon growls again, a small stream of smoke leaving his nostrils. He slowly begins to move, revealing the cowering form of a man. His clothes are bloody from a massive claw wound across his chest. His eyes are alight with fear as he looks up at the three Targaryens. “Who the fuck are you?” Rhaenys asks.

The man hesitates for a second before saying, “Ser Jorah Mormont.”

Haeron sneers at the man, “How did you find us?”

“Lord Stark sent me,” Jorah says hesitantly.

Daenerys’ eyes narrow, her violet orbs flashing in anger. “Do not lie to us, _Ser._ We can tell when you do.”

The man cowers even further in upon himself. “I was exiled by Lord Eddard Stark.”

Haeron’s eyes flash this time, his deep purple eyes flaring with restrained power. “Why were you exiled?”

Jorah looks down, “I…I made some bad choices in the past and am paying for them now.”

Daenerys shakes her head, silver hair flowing out behind her. “That isn’t an answer.” Baleria places her massive maw next to Daenerys’ minuscule form, a threatening rumble leaving her chest. “Do not make us ask again.”

“I…I,” Jorah sighs deeply, “In an attempt to keep up with my wife’s demands, I…I sold some poachers into slavery.”

Rhaenys nods her head, not at all surprised by the answer. “That brings us back to how you found us.”

Jorah looks around him as if trying to see if there is any way to escape. He looks down, “I…I heard rumors of Targaryens surviving somewhere in Essos and began to follow the trail. I reached Pentos after they had already left, but I was able to get a few pointers from locals as to what direction you headed in.” He pauses, looking up at them nervously. “As I traveled further inland, I came across more rumors about silver-haired children. Then I got to one city where they claimed that the Targaryens killed a group of robbers as they passed by.”

“It wasn’t much of a stretch from there for me to assume the Targaryens were heading for one of the free cities. When I arrived in Meereen a few years ago, I began to think that the trail had run cold. I gave up trying to find them and decided to just settle down in Meereen.”

Haeron shakes his head, “Don’t pretend to be a fool, Mormont. You keep talking as if you haven’t found the Targaryens yet. You won’t fool us.”

Mormont actually looks confused, “What do you mean?”

Rhaenys looks at Daenerys and Haeron in confusion, “ _Iksis bisa vala syt drēje?_ (Is this man for real?)”

Haeron sneers at the fallen man’s form. Suddenly, Jorah coughs, a small amount of blood dribbling out of one side of his mouth. Haeron sighs but says, “ _Qogralbar. Sȳrī, sir eman naejot giēñagon zirȳla._ (Fuck. Well, now I have to heal him.)”

Haeron leans down and presses a hand to Jorah’s stomach, ignoring the man’s feeble attempts to stop him. A soft glow emanates from Haeron’s palm, causing the man to stop struggling.

Footsteps appear behind them and Ser Arthur appears, a hand on his famous sword _Dawn_. “Your Grace, are you alright?”  
Haeron doesn’t look up, “I am fine, Ser Arthur. I need to keep this man alive so we can question him.”

Ser Arthur’s eyes fall to the man on the ground and his eyes narrow, “How did he…”

Rhaenys responds to Haeron, “He followed our trial…apparently…”

Ser Arthur’s eyes narrow and he walks to stand at Haeron’s side, hand still not leaving _Dawn’s_ hilt.

Once Haeron finishes healing the man, he takes a step back. Arthur steps forward, kneeling down to look at the man. His shirt is soaked with blood, his breaths coming in weak bursts.

A few moments later, the man blinks his eyes open once more. His eyes look around himself, falling onto Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys. It seems that he realizes who he is looking at because he scrambles back a few feet, eyes flitting between their forms. “Wait, you are…?”

Haeron nods, “Yes, Ser Jorah. You have found us. Congrats.”

The man’s eyes widen as he sees Ser Arthur at Haeron’s side, “What the…How are you alive?”

Ser Arthur shakes his head, drawing _Dawn_ and placing its blade beneath Jorah’s chin. The tip of the blade nudges against Mormont’s throat, a thin line of blood appearing behind it. “You are not the one asking questions, Mormont. His Grace saved your life. I am not sure if I agree with his decision but he did. Now, you are going to come with us to answer a few questions.”

Ser Jorah’s eyes widen at the response and his vision snaps over to Haeron. He seems to want to ask more questions but thinks better of it. Arthur roughly pulls him to his feet, placing his sword back in its sheathe. The Rhaenys calls out, “We will be right behind you, Ser Arthur. We need to talk to the dragons for a few minutes.”

“Understood, my lady. I will take him back to the manse and we will await your arrival to begin questioning him.”

The three nod and watch as Ser Arthur leads Mormont away, his walking seemingly hobbled by the dragons. Rhaenys goes back to running her hand across Rhaegon’s maw, asking, “ _Issi ao sȳz?_ (Are you fine?)” She asks her dragon.

A rumble leaves his mouth, a short breath of air leaving his mouth. Rhaenys smiles, “Good.”

She runs her hand down her dragon’s maw once more before turning around. She watches as Daenerys and Haeron comfort their dragons, her eyes finding the glittering black orbs of Saegar. The massive dragon makes ships look small in comparison. His size compares to that of the whole Targaryen Manse, his wingspan included.

Rhaenys walks forward to stand at Haeron’s side, placing her hand on Saegar’s side at the juncture where his wings meet his body. The dragon lets out a purring sound, the sound shaking the ground due to its intensity.

Rhaenys sighs, “We should probably go back to the manse because of Ser Jorah. We can come back later this evening and go on a flight.”

Haeron sighs, “You are right. Let’s go.”

Daenerys follows close behind them as they walk away from the scorched earth that the dragons created to call their home. The stench of bones and blood slowly dying away, though the Targaryens are used to the smell.

When they arrived back at the manse, Rhaenys’ eyes widen. Outside of the manse, they see almost everyone standing near Ser Jorah. Ser Jorah stands next to Ser Arthur, watching Mormont.

Ser Jamie, Ser Oswell, and Jon Connington stand a few yards from them, in quiet conversation.

Lyanna and Rhaella walk out of the manse at the same time, all of the Targaryens converging around Ser Jorah.

The man looks nervously around himself, his eyes shocked at the familiar faces around him. When his eyes fall upon Lyanna, he looks like he has seen a ghost. He tries to turn and limp away but Ser Arthur keeps him where he is.

Haeron walks forward, Rhaenys at his side. Daenerys follows close behind them. Haeron stops just in front of the Mormont. “We will ask you again and give you one last chance to answer well and truthfully. Why. Are. You. Here.”

Mormont flinches, “I…I…”

Haeron shakes his head, “Do not forget we will know if you are lying. I suggest you tell the truth, lest you wish to not survive this day.”

Mormont looks down, “When…when I heard about the existence of Targaryens, I instantly came to the conclusion that the king would want to know about them.”

Haeron’s eyes narrow dangerously, “Did you just call _the Usurper,_ king?”

Mormont flinches again, “I apologize, Your Grace.”

Haeron nods at the response, seemingly satisfied. He waves his hand in a gesture for Mormont to continue. “I went in search of you…” Mormont hesitates. “In the hopes that I could earn a pardon by giving the King information about all of you.”

“Is the King aware of our existence or location?” Rhaenys asks.

Mormont slowly shakes his head, “No, my lady. He doesn’t even know I am here. No one does. I went on this search of my own accord.”

Haeron nods slowly, “Why do you want to return home so badly?”

Jorah cocks his head, “It is my _home._ The North is all I know. I want to return home to my family.”

Ser Arthur steps forward looking at Haeron for permission. After Haeron nods, Arthur asks, “How did you find us? We were not aware we left a followable trail. Could someone else follow the trail you did?”

Jorah shakes his head, “No. The trail I follow has taken years for me to get here. The remnants of what I followed are probably gone.”

Arthur nods.

Haeron looks down at the man, “What do we do with you, Mormont?”

“Your Grace?” He asks.

“You have seen far too much for us to just let you go. On the other hand, you could still betray us.”

Rhaenys nods, “You need to give us a reason to leave you alive.”

The man’s eyes widen in shock, “I…I don’t know. I won’t…won’t betray you.”

Daenerys scoffs, “How are we supposed to believe that?”  
Jorah’s eyes dart around him, desperation clear in his eyes. His eyes glance up and down Daenerys’ body, something that greatly annoys Haeron and Rhaenys.

Haeron shakes his head, “That is an even greater reason to execute you right now. How dare you look at her that way.”

Ser Jorah looks down, seeming to realize he is trapped. Haeron shakes his head, though he begins to smile. He turns to Daenerys and Rhaenys and says, “ _Bisa iksis se vok jēda syt ao lanta naejot gaomagon skoros emā gūrēntan._ (This is the perfect time for you two to use what you have learned.)”

Rhaenys feels a cruel grin appear on her face and sees Daenerys do the same. The two walk towards Ser Jorah, causing him to look at them in confusion.

Rhaenys lowers herself down onto the ground, her knees brushing against the turf. She raises one hand to gently touch against Jorah’s face, causing him to lean away from her touch.

Lyanna walks forward to stand at Haeron’s side, whispering, “What are they going to do? What did you tell them?”

Haeron grins cheekily, “Do you regret not joining our Valyrian lessons now, mother?”

Lyanna sighs, “Answer the question.”

Haeron nods, “They are going to test what I have taught them.”

Lyanna’s eyes widen, “Magic? Hae, we need him.”

Haeron turns cold, “We need him? Why? We know everything he could tell us and we don’t need anyone else on my King’s Guard.”  
Lyanna lowers her voice, “Hae, I am asking you to leave him alive.”

Haeron sighs, “Fine.” He calls out, “Ñuha muña jorrāelagon zir _ȳla naejot glaesagon._ (My mother needs him to live.)”

A disappointed sigh leaves Rhaenys’ lips but she doesn’t refute that. Lyanna is basically Rhaenys’ own mother in the way she was raised, something that Rhaenys is very grateful for.

Rhaenys stands up and points her right hand at the man. Instead of saying a verbal incantation, she focuses on the wellspring of power within her. When she taps into it, it is as though she touches a fire. The feeling of power is overwhelming at all-consuming. Rhaenys lets out a low sigh of contentment at the feeling of fire in her veins.

She focuses her intent on Ser Jorah, _willing_ him to feel a small amount of pain. Ser Jorah lets out a surprised gasp of pain, looking down at his body in confusion. Rhaella steps forward to Rhaenys’ side, intent on stopping her surrogate child from torturing a man.

However, both Daenerys and Haeron step in front of her, stopping her advance. “I am sorry, grandmother, but this is the best way for her to strengthen what I have trained her. I cannot allow you to stop her. Besides, this will teach. Ser Jorah what we are capable of so he won't betray us in the future. Though he will be naturally afraid of us and will do anything to not anger us.”

Rhaella’s eyes widen as her young grandson lays out their plan, though she doesn’t like how willing the three children are to torture someone.

Rhaella walks over to Lyanna’s side and says, “What has happened to them?”

Lyanna sighs, “Hae mentioned that it has something to do with the bond they have with their dragons. It seems as though the dragons are rubbing off on them, and not in a good way.”

Rhaella nods, “I hope this is not the beginning of their descent into madness.”

Lyanna shakes her head, “It’s not. If anything, this change in attitude will aid them in their quest to conquer Westeros.”

Rhaella looks at Lyanna in surprise, “You think?” She sighs. “You’re right. I’m being overly paranoid. I just don’t want them to end up like my brother.”

Lyanna places a hand on her mother-in-law’s shoulder, “I am so sorry about that. I feel like it is partly my fault that war ripped Westeros apart.”

Rhaella shakes her head, “It isn’t your fault, Lyanna. The heart is a fickle thing. You can’t control who you fall for. Rhaegar wouldn’t want you to regret anything that happened. If my son chose to marry you, he must have cared deeply for you. He may have acted on impulse a lot, but he always stayed true.”

Their conversation is interrupted by a particularly loud scream from Ser Jorah. Rhaella turns to look at the man again and is shocked to see her daughter is the one causing the man pain.

“Dany!” She says, rushing towards the man.

Ser Jamie stops her, “I am sorry, Your Grace. Haeron has ordered me to forbid you from approaching them until they are done.”

Rhaella scowls, “Step aside, Ser Jamie.”

Ser Gerold joins Ser Jamie, “I am sorry, Your Grace. You know we can’t disobey an order from His Grace.”

Rhaella sighs and nods, deciding not to push the King’s Guard to disobey their vows to their King.

She watches as Daenerys keeps her magic around the Northern Knight for a few more moments. Then Haeron places a palm on Daenerys’ shoulder. The silver-haired girl releases her magic, a groan of relief leaving Ser Jorah’s lips.

Haeron steps forward, placing a palm on the forehead of the man. Rhaenys smiles at her brother, curious to see what he will do to the man.

A soft, white glow begins to emanate from his hand. Mormont begins to moan slightly, causing Rhaenys to truly wonder what her brother is doing to the man.

When Haeron stops, he takes a step back. For a few moments, Mormont remains still.

Then, with a gasp, he opens his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He blinks a few times, his eyes focusing on Haeron in front of him. He scrambles backward when he sees all of the Targaryens around him, though his eyes are not filled with the same recognition he possessed earlier.

In a voice filled with fear, he asks, “Your Grace?”

Haeron smirks, “Hello, Ser Jorah.” He says, “What happened to you?”

Jorah sits up, clutching his forehead. He grimaces, “I am...I am not sure what happened to me.”

Jorah looks surprised at himself for what he said, placing a hand on his mouth. Haeron laughs, “You collapsed soon after learning who I am.”

Jorah’s eyes widen, fear flitting across his features. “Why are you seeking us?”

Jorah’s face goes blank for a moment before returning to normal. He looks down at his chest. "You healed me?"

Haeron lets out laugh again, “Yes. You were dying, Ser Jorah. I hope you will return the debt you now owe me by protecting me and my family.”

Rhaenys steps to his side, “What exactly did you do?”

“I healed the wound on his chest thoroughly and kind of...highlighted...what kind of man the usurper is. Ser Jorah is still the same but now he has no desire to turn us in.”

Rhaenys’ eyes widen, “You…made him loyal by showing him the truth? Is that all you did?”

Haeron nods, “Yes. I originally thought about actually editing him but that is not something I am going to do unless it is absolutely necessary.”

Daenerys smiles, “Good job, Hae.”

Haeron nods before turning back to the King’s Guard and nodding his head. Rhaella races towards them the moment the King’s Guard allow her to pass, standing in front of the three. She sighs. “What did you do to him?”

Haeron grins, “Nothing, grandmother. Well, he may be a bit different now. He will be loyal to us.”

Rhaella looks down at the man, watching as he bows deeply to all of them.

“He may be more _loyal_ now,” Haeron says, turning to Ser Gerold. “But I still don’t completely trust him. Take him to the guest wing of the manse and keep him in there. Do not let him out. I will talk to him again later and decide what to do with him.”

The Lord Commander nods, turning and walking back towards the manse with Ser Jorah. Ser Jamie trails after him at Haeron’s bidding, leaving Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Arthur Dayne with Daenerys, Rhaenys, Haeron, Lyanna, and Rhaella.

“I think it is time we go for our evening flight, do you agree brother?” Rhaenys says.

Haeron and Daenerys both nod and turn to walks back towards the dragons. “Be careful.” Lyanna calls.

Haeron shakes his head, though he still smiles. “ _How my life has changed. In the previous life, I had no mother figure in my life that I could trust and now I have a true mother. I am so lucky to have gotten Lyanna as a mother, though I worry for her sanity when Dany, Rhae, and I actually begin entering large battles.”_

Soon, the three arrive back at the dragons, each walking to their own dragon. Rhaenys runs a hand down Rhaegon’s side, enjoying the heat of his scales. The dragon rises onto his legs, towering above Rhaenys. He then lowers one wing to the ground, making it easy for Rhaenys to climb on.

She walks up his wing, stepping onto his shoulder where his body meets the wings and pulling herself onto his back. She moves up onto his neck, wrapping her hands around scales that poke out from Rhaegon’s back. The dragon unfurls his massive wings and flaps them, creating a storm of sand around them.

Rhaenys closes her eyes briefly to prevent any sand from entering her eyes. Then, with a few powerful flaps, they soar into the beautiful evening sky.

Rhaenys opens her arms, enjoying the feel of the rushing wind against her skin. “ _No matter how many times I do this, this never gets old._ ” She thinks.

Behind her, Baleria and Saegar follow close behind. The massive black and gold dragon of Haeron soon passes her, Haeron grinning cockily at her.

Rhaenys, not one to back down, urges Rhaegon to go faster, shooting after Saegar into the darkening sky.

Wind rushes past her, creating a whistling sound in her ears. Saegar’s wings are larger than Rhaegon’s, however, allowing him to get far ahead of Rhaenys.

Soon, Baleria passes Rhaegon, Daenerys sending a smirk at her niece. Rhaenys sighs, watching Saegar and Baleria spiral further and further up, the air begins to thin. It slowly gets colder, Rhaegon’s warm scales keeping her warm.

Rhaenys stops paying attention to her surroundings for a brief moment and is started one Saegar and Baleria dive past her at high speeds.

Rhaenys quickly urges Rhaegon to follow, watching as Haeron guides his dragon towards the ground. They land on a small hill of green grass, a rare sight in the area of Essos they are in.

Rhaenys climbs off of Rhaegon, walking over to stand next to Haeron and Daenerys.

She stands in between the two and wraps her arms around both of them. Haeron smiles softly at her, leaning down to graze his lips against her forehead. The touch sends a thrill through her body, causing her to shiver slightly. Her body leans into his touch, seeking more.

Daenerys does the same, pressing her smaller body against Rhaenys’ other side, her head resting against Rhaenys’ breast. Rhaenys relaxes into Haeron’s body, settling her head against his sturdy chest.

The grass is soft beneath her feet, a nice change from the rough, gritty ground around the manse. Haeron slowly lowers himself to the ground, Daenerys and Rhaenys following his example.

Rhaenys settles on the grassy ground, the soft ground a relaxing feeling. The sun overhead begins to set, sending a red-orange glow onto the ground in front of them.

The three Targaryens take in deep breathes, doing their best to enjoy the time they have before their conquest begins. Time passes slowly as the dragons behind them settle down. Baleria lays her head down in a way her neck wraps around them, her maw sitting just in front of them.

The sun gets a little lower in the sky, the sky getting a little darker. Daenerys says, “I am so glad I have the two of you.”

Haeron smiles, “Likewise. I would never have gotten as far as I have without you two.”

Rhaenys nods in agreement. “Haeron, this seems like a good time to ask you what spell you tried using years ago but couldn’t get to work. I have been wondering since then what spell it was.”

Haeron sighs, “I had a feeling you would both want to know what it was.” He takes a deep breath. “The spell I was using is very difficult for me to use.”

Daenerys reaches across Rhaenys’ body, placing a comforting hand on Haeron’s fidgeting hands. “You don’t have to tell us, Hae.”

Haeron shakes his head, “No. You both deserve to know.”

Silence falls for a few moments before Haeron continues, “Do you remember how I told you my parents were killed when I was a baby by the Dark Lord on my old planet?”

Daenerys and Rhaenys both nod, “I am so sorry, we weren’t with you in your past life, Hae.”

Haeron smiles, “My past life doesn’t matter now. I have you both now.” He shakes himself. “I’m getting off-topic. I assume you also remember when I told you about when I killed someone?”  
Both nod. “All of those deaths were caused by the same spell. I know I have mentioned all of this to both of you before but I feel as though I need to reaffirm this. The spell used to cause all of those deaths is a spell of insurmountable power. If a wizard is able to cast this spell, the only way to stop it is by dodging it or blocking it. It cannot be countered.”

“What happens if you are hit by this spell?” Rhaenys asks slowly.

Haeron sighs, “If someone is hit by the spell, they are instantly dead. It is known as the _Killing Curse_ for a reason.”

Rhaenys’ eyes widen, “It is an instant kill? How is that possible?”  
Haeron sighs again, “I don’t know too much about it but what I do know is that it is from a different branch of magic from most other spells. A branch called Soul Magic. Soul Magic is an incredibly _dark_ branch of magic, relying on malicious intent to fuel spells.”

“Haeron, what is the incantation in case we ever need the spell?” Daenerys asks, surprising Rhaenys.

Haeron looks down, “The incantation…The incantation is _Avada Kedavra_.”

“ _Avada Kedavra_ …” Rhaenys mutters.

“That is not all, though. It is incredibly hard for someone with a good conscience to use. In order to use it, you need an incredibly high level of hatred, anger, and desire. You have to _truly_ want to take the target’s life.”

Rhaenys nods, “That makes sense. Is there any way to fake those emotions so you can use the spell?”

Haeron frowns, “I do not believe so. It requires such strong negative emotions that you would need to truly have a negative experience to draw those emotions from.”

Silence falls over them once more before Daenerys asks, “If that is the case, how can you not cast it anymore?”

Haeron sighs, though he smiles softly, “My experiences in my past life made me capable of casting it, and I did. I killed someone with it. However, I believe the years I have shared with you two have changed me. Erased the negative experiences of the past.”

Rhaenys sighs, “Have you tried to cast it since that day years ago?”

Haeron shakes his head, “No. I doubt I will be able to cast it. I am not going to waste time casting a spell when there are hundreds of other ways to kill someone.”

“Is there any other spells you have kept from us?” Rhaenys asks.

Haeron hesitates briefly before nodding, “There are two others. Them, along with the Killing Curse, make up the group of spells that were labeled as ‘Unforgiveables’ in my past life.”

“What do the spells do?”

Haeron shakes his head, “We have talked enough about spellwork tonight. Let’s just enjoy the rest of tonight. I will tell you both more tomorrow.”

Both girls nod and silence falls over them again. Behind them, Saegar lets out a loud growl, though all three can tell it is more of a sound of agreement.

The three children watch as the sun dips below the horizon, leaving only a small amount of light behind them. The moon overhead gives the grass a silvery glitter.

Rhaenys takes in a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the fresh evening breeze. The three get more comfortable, their bodies pressing together as they look up at the night air. Baleria places one wing under them, wrapping it around them in an attempt to comfort them.

All three Targaryens laugh at the massive dragon’s actions but none of them dislike the action. The feeling of being wrapped in a dragon’s wing is not something anyone really ever feels.

**A/N.**

**End of chapter eight! I have gotten more used to my college schedule so I should be able to update more. However, I make no promises.**

**Explanations:**

**This chapter was written specifically for the point of expanding on the family interactions of the Starks and Targaryens.**

**I originally had Haeron alter Ser Jorah but have decided that that is a completely unnecessary change of morals on his part and is hypocritical. Haeron delt with his memory being altered in his previous life and knows the suffering it carries. Thank you to all of the reviewers who pointed this out so I would change it.**

**The discussion about the killing curse may seem like unnecessary information but is a good way to key Rhaenys and Daenerys into Soul Magic and the cost it can demand.**

**Thanks for all of the wonderful feedback and support on this story!**


	9. Chapter Nine(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M.

 **Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter.

**Chapter Nine(Discovery)**

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Essos. Time: Continuation(4 BSB)._ **

**——Daenerys Targaryen POV——**

Daenerys slowly blinks her eyes open, the purple orbs glimmering in the light of the morning sun. The feel of Baleria’s scales against her skin is comforting. The heat of the scales increased as the sun beats down on the black scales.

Daenerys sighs in contentment at the feeling of the soft ground against her back, slowly lifting her head. Her eyes widen when she sees where she was lying; against her niece’s breast.

She sits up, Baleria shifting her wing to give Daenerys more room to move. She crawls out from under Baleria’s wing slowly, turning to look back at where she was. Rhaenys lies against Haeron’s chest, her black hair splayed out around her in a way that almost completely shrouds her features from view.

Daenerys smiles at the sight before turning and walking a few yards away. The sun continues to rise overhead, shedding more light onto their surroundings. Daenerys walks over to where Saegar lies, gently running a hand down his snout. The massive golden dragon lets out a sound akin to a purr, shifting and blinking open his mesmerizing pupils.

Daenerys smiles, “ _Skorkydoso glaesā tubī, Saegar?_ (How are you today, Saegar?)”

The dragon snorts, his eyes not leaving her’s. Daenerys laughs, “Good.”

Daenerys turns and walks back to Baleria, smiling when she sees Rhaenys and Haeron rising to their feet. “We should get back. Mother is probably worried.” Daenerys says.

Rhaenys and Haeron nod, both walking towards their dragons. Daenerys walks to Baleria, placing her palm on the scales beneath her eyes. No words are said by Daenerys to her dragon, none are needed. Her bond with Baleria is sufficient enough to allow her and her dragon to feel indistinct emotions.

After a moment, Baleria snorts, smoke drifting out of her nostrils. Daenerys laughs, “Fine. I’m going.”

Both Saegar and Rhaegon take off, leaving Daenerys and Baleria behind. Baleria lowers one wing for Daenerys to walk up, rising to her back talons as she does so. Once Daenerys settles herself on Baleria’s neck, the dragon beats her wings fiercely and takes off after Saegar and Rhaegon.

Within minutes, the three arrive back at the manse and drift down to land at the back. The dragons settle down once more, knowing better than to fly around a lot during broad daylight.

Daenerys climbs down off of Baleria’s neck, clambering down her wing and onto the ground. She greets Haeron and Rhaenys, the three of them walking towards the manse. When they arrive, they see Jon Connington waiting outside the back doors. “Welcome back, Your Grace. I trust you enjoyed your night?”

Haeron nods, “We did, Ser Jon. Thank you. Is everything alright?”

Jon frowns, “The Dowager Queen suffered from a panic attack last night. We were unable to fully console her. Lady Lyanna did her best but I fear something else is going on.”

The three children feel dread flow through them, “Where is my mother?” Daenerys asks intently.

Jon says, “Lady Lyanna is keeping her company in the library at the moment. Queen Rhaella seems to be feeling better this morning.”

The three rush past him and into the manse, quickly making their way to the library. Ser Gerold stands outside the doors to the library and nods in greeting to the three as he pushes the door open.

The three walk in, their eyes widening at what they see. Rhaella sits on the couch, tears rolling down her face. Her body shakes from sobs as she lets out an agonized cry. Lyanna wraps her arms around Rhaella, though it doesn’t really do anything.

Daenerys rushes forward, sitting on her mother’s other side. She places a hand on her mother’s back, moving it in soothing circles. She whispers, “Mother…”

No reaction.

“Mother, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”

Rhaella’s tears continue to flow, though her sobs come to a slow stop. She turns to her daughter, face distraught in horror. “What is wrong with me, Dany? I…went to bed fine but woke up in the middle of the night like this.”  
Daenerys shakes her head, “I do not know, mother.”

She turns to look at Haeron, “Hae? Do you know what could be happening?”

Haeron walks forward to kneel before his grandmother, taking one of her hands into his own. “Grandmother, do you remember anything about last night?”

Rhaella shakes her head, “…No. I don’t really remember anything after I got in bed last night. I don’t even remember how I got here.”

Haeron’s eyes narrow, “Grandmother. There is something I need to test.”

Rhaella nods, “Please do, Haeron.”

Haeron nods and gently takes his other hand and places it against her forehead. He closes his eyes, focusing on his grandmother’s mind.

As he enters, he is immediately caught in a wall of flames guarding her mind. “ _Wow. What a great idea! Only Targaryens would be able to bypass it without using a great deal of power.”_

He slowly passes by the wall of flames, the heat intense against his skin. “ _If I wasn’t a Targaryen, this would have killed me by now_.”

He crawls out of the wall of fire and looks around himself again. His eyes widen. His grandmother’s mindscape is laid out into a large city. At the center of it, a massive red keep rises, dwarfing the rest of the buildings in the city.

“ _Is this what King’s Landing looks like? Is that the Red Keep?_ ”

He walks towards the city, walking through the streets. The streets are crawling with life. Haeron takes a closer look at one human and his eyes widen even further. He actually gasps, “ _My grandmother has created an entire city to store her memories? That’s amazing. And each person I pass isn’t actually a person. Rather, they are vessels for the memories she has experienced throughout her life._ ”

As he gets closer and closer to the Red Keep, the vessels around him continue to get darker and darker. The sky above him darkens, lightning beginning to flash. He nears the gate to the Red Keep, but is soon stopped by a guard who swings a sword at him. Haeron jumps backward, avoiding the blow. He quickly gestures at the guard and mutters, “ _Stupefy._ ”

The spell hits the guard and he collapses to the ground. Haeron continues walking until he reaches the gate itself. He looks around himself for a moment before using a burst of power to jump onto the battlement on top of the wall. He crouches, looking down at the compound inside the gate. The streets are empty. Dark.

Haeron takes a deep breath before jumping down and walking further into the Red Keep. The air around him becomes hotter, his vision getting distorted from strange sounds emanating from all around him.

He brings his hands up to cover his ears, the sound becoming nearly unbearable as he reaches the palace itself.

No guards stand at the entrance, something that confuses Haeron greatly. However, he continues walking. He slowly enters the palace, constantly looking around himself warily.

He soon comes to two large wooden doors and tries to push them open. They don’t budge.

Haeron takes a step back, focusing his magic on the doors. “ _Alohomora_.”

With a click, the doors unlock. He tries pushing the doors open once more and this time, they swing open.

Haeron is instantly hit with a wave of green fire as a mad laugh echos through the room. The room is alight with green fire, lining a pathway right to a metal throne. “ _Is that…my grandfather? That’s the Mad King. Holy fuck._ ”

He slowly enters the throne room, careful to avoid the green fire that rages all around him. Screams of pain fill his ears as he gets closer to the throne, getting a better look at the figure of his infamous grandfather. The man looks as mad as he sounds as he rages from his throne.

Haeron prepares his magic in case he needs to defend himself, making his way closer and closer to the Iron Throne.

His grandfather seems unable to see him, a fact that greatly relieves him. As he approaches the throne, he sees that the throne is glowing an odd blue color. Images flicker across the throne too quickly for Haeron to see what they are.

He kneels down to the right of the throne, trying to ignore the sounds of his grandfather’s mad yells and the feel of the scorching green fire. He tries to see the images that flicker across the metal but his eyes are unable to make out anything beyond constantly changing colors.

He carefully brings up his right hand and moves it towards the metal. Haeron carefully places his palm against the metal before jerking it back with a scream of pain. Images flood through his mind, images that he can’t make sense of. His grandmother giving birth to two Targaryen boys. His father, Rhaegar. His uncle, Viserys. And his aunt, Daenerys.

“ _Why are these memories so well protected and hidden from her? Why would her mind try to forget giving birth?_ ”

Suddenly, the green fire swirls around him, the heat causing Haeron to hiss in pain.

Haeron exits his grandmother’s mind, a yell leaving his mouth as he does so. He collapses backward but Daenerys catches him by his arm.

His mother rises from her spot by Rhaella’s side, kneeling down next to him. “What is it, Hae? What did you see?”

Haeron shakes his head, looking up at his grandmother in shock and confusion. His mind tries to work through what he saw but can’t. He remains silent, unable to put into words what he just saw. “ _I do not understand. Why are the memories of her giving birth buried in her mind?_ ”

His mother shakes his shoulders, snapping him out of his train of thoughts. “Hae, are you alright?”

Haeron goes to nod but flinches when his hand burns with pain. He holds up the hand that touched the Iron Throne, eyes widening when he sees the burned flesh of his palm. Lyanna’s eyes widen and she grabs her son’s wrist, inspecting the wound.

Rhaenys is quickly at his side, dark eyes filled with concern. Daenerys remains with her mother, sending her nephew a worried glance.

Lyanna guides Haeron onto the couch, setting him down next to Rhaella. His grandmother looks at him with wide eyes, “What did you see?”

Haeron’s eyes dart around the room before he shakes his head. “I…I am not sure.”

Rhaella sighs, “I figured as much. If I can’t see anything, why would you be able to.”

Daenerys asks, “Are you sure you didn’t see anything?”

Haeron’s eyes continue to dart around the room, landing on Rhaenys’ narrowed eyes. He flinches, knowing that Daenerys and Rhaenys can sense his lie. “I saw…Well, I think I saw my grandfather.”

Rhaella sits up sharply, “You saw Aerys? What? How? What was he doing?”

Haeron takes a deep breath, “He was sitting on the Iron Throne surrounded by green fire. He was laughing madly.”

Rhaella nods sadly, “I won’t ever forget what my brother was like before his descent into madness, but by the end, he was a true monster.”  
Daenerys presses, “Did you see anything else? Anything that could explain her pain and panic attacks?”

Haeron hesitates briefly before shaking his head, “No. I will try again later. For now, I need to get some fresh air.”

He turns and walks out, feeling four pairs of eyes on his retreating form. Daenerys frowns, instantly knowing that her nephew is keeping something from them. “ _Why? What did Hae see that he is willing to lie to us to keep it from us?_ ”

Her and Rhaenys share a look before Rhaenys moves towards the door to follow Haeron. Lyanna calls out, “Give him a minute. I have never seen him like that before.”

Rhaenys hesitates but walks back over to Lyanna, Rhaella, and Daenerys. Daenerys’ mind races as she tries to puzzle out what he could have seen.

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron races from the library, passing Ser Gerold without so much as a nod in his direction. His body leads him out of the manse and towards the dragons. His pace quickens, leading him further and further away from the manse. Without thinking, his body leads him to Saegar. The massive dragon seemingly senses his distress, lowering one wing to the ground for Haeron to climb up.

The moment Haeron is secure, Saegar leaps into the sky. A few powerful strokes from his wings have them soaring into the sky and into the clouds. The feeling of the cool water vapor against his skin is a relief compared to the searing heat he has been feeling since he exited his grandmother’s mind.

“ _How did this happen? How did I almost have another aunt that no one even knows to exist? Why do I have to lose so much of my family?"_

“ **I believe I know/”** Fate’s voice rings in his ears.

Haeron can’t help but scowl, “Really? Oh, pray tell me what could make my grandmother bury the memories of her pregnancies.”

Fate sighs, “ **I am sorry, young one. Your grandmother’s age plays a major role in this pain she is now feeling. There is a more important reason though.** ”

Haeron takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “What is it?”

Fate responds sadly, “ **Your grandmother successfully gave birth to three children but, as is far too common in this world, she lost a fourth in childbirth.** ”

Haeron’s eyes widen in shock, “I almost had two aunts? What happened?”

Fate sighs, “ **Rhaella lost her first daughter at the hands of Death. This girl was stillborn. She never breathed a breath of air after leaving her mother’s body. The pain of the pregnancy almost killed Rhaella and the fact that she lost her first daughter made her worse. I do not know how her mind managed to organize her memories in such a way but that is why. I do not think Rhaella even remembers her own pregnancy of this girl.** ”

Haeron massages his temples, a feeling of sadness flowing through him. “What would my second aunt have been like? What would her name have been?”  
Fate sighs, “ **Your older aunt would have been a mighty warrior who remained quiet and kind. She would have been the embodiment of the Targaryen appearance. Much like Daenerys and a little taller. She would have been named Visenya Targaryen.** ”

Haeron takes a deep breath, once more is sadness flowing through him. “Visenya…” Haeron mutters. “Why is…” He stops himself. “I apologize, Lady Fate. I mean no disrespect.”

Fate sighs again, “ **I don’t blame you, young one. Fate can be cruel. I had no hand in her death, however.** ”

“What?”

“ **Contrary to popular belief, I do not control everything. There are things that even I cannot change. Life is a fragile thing that and as sorry as I am to say this, it isn’t going to last forever. I can make small changes to timelines, such as giving you a new life here. But what I can’t do is actually alter the timeline in large ways.** ”

“Large ways?” Haeron asks, voice broken in nature.

“ **For example, I cannot create life.** ”

“Wait, but didn’t you create life when you gave me this new life?” Haeron says.

“ **No. Lyanna Stark was already pregnant with Rhaegar Targaryen’s child. I merely altered who that child would be. I placed your soul in the child’s body, removing the soul that was already there.** ”

“Wait, you _killed_ a baby so I could have a new life? I never knew that is what I asked of you when I said I wanted a new life.” Haeron asks, voice tinged with regret. “What would have happened if you had not put my soul into his body?”

“ **The poor boy was going to look like a Stark, rather than the traditional Targaryen appearance you possess. Ned Stark would have seen this as an opportunity for him to claim his sister’s child as his own and take it back to Winterfell. The boy would have lived a tortured existence at the hands of Catelyn Tully, a woman who could not see past his bastard status. By removing his soul, I saved him from a lifetime of pain. Besides, I did not kill his soul. I merely moved it into a different body.** ”

“He lives? Where? Who is he?”

Fate sighs, “ **He has been born as a bastard, still. One fathered by Ned Stark before his engagement to Catelyn Tully. The mother is a beautiful woman who goes by the name Ashara Dayne. He lives in a secluded house with his mother away from the rest of Dorne. Ashara faked her own death so she could live a better life with her son. Though I am not really sure why. Dorne is quite excepting of bastards and would have accepted him as if he were a trueborn.** ”

Haeron sighs, “I hope one day to meet this man. What did Lady Ashara name him?”

“ **Jon Sand is the name he currently holds though Ashara wishes to get him legitimized. Ned Stark is unaware of his eldest child. He believes Ashara to be dead.”**

Haeron’s eyes widen, “When I am King, I will gladly legitimize him. It is the least I owe him. I owe him my life, apparently.”

“ **That is kind of you, young one.** ” Fate says sadly.

Haeron nods, “I know, Lady Fate. You have been nothing but kind to me. I only hope I will be able to gain my crown without needing to burn too many people alive.”

“ **I hope for your sake that that is the case but I tend to doubt it. There will always be those who cannot except their own loss of power. There will be those who deserve to burn. Do not lose sight of that.** ”

Haeron nods, “I understand.“

Silence falls for a few moments before Fate says, “ **I have been meaning to tell you. You have another surviving family member in Westeros. His name is Aemon. He is the Maester of the Night’s Watch. He recently met with your uncle and expressed his desire to meet you before his approaching end.** ”

“Really?” Haeron asks, “How long does he have? Would I be able to meet him after conquering Westeros?”

“ **I am afraid not. His days are coming to an end. Even your magic will not affect his old body. However, it would mean more than anything to him to meet you. I hope for his sake that you can find a way to meet him. He deserves to die knowing his family is on the track to revival.** ”

“I will talk to Dany and Rhae about it. Can I apparate to him?”

“ **You would be able to apparate to just before the wall. However, the wall possesses an incredibly powerful network of spells to keep any magic outside of it. This doubles to keep any magic you possess from working within its radius.** ”

“Alright. Would you be able to provide me the location so I can apparate to him?”

Fate nods, “ **I will, young one. For now, I suggest you return to your family.**

Haeron nods, feeling her presence vanish, leaving him on Saegar’s back miles up in the sky.

He guides Saegar back in the direction of the manse, a depressed silence falling over him. He can tell Saegar sense his emotions because the dragon growls out a question. “I don’t know what to do, Saegar. Apparently my grandmother had another child but the child was born dead. I don’t know how to tell her. It may cause her pain to worsen.”

The dragon rumbles out a sympathetic sound, causing Haeron to smile softly. “Thank you, Saegar.”

The clouds around them get thinner as Saegar flies lower, approaching the manse. He lands behind it, his wings stirring up a cloud of dust around them. As he lands, he lets out a sigh when he sees Rhaenys and Daenerys awaiting his arrival. Both look at him with narrowed eyes and Haeron knows he won’t last long once both begin questioning him.

Once Saegar lands, Haeron takes a few moments to collect his thoughts before climbing off of Saegar.

Rhaenys reaches up and aids his descent to the ground. Silence falls over the three for a moment before Haeron begins to walk back towards the manse. “What is it, Hae? What did you see that has you this shocked and confused?”

Haeron sighs, “I will tell you once we reach mother and grandmother. They deserve to know the truth now.”

Daenerys and Rhaenys gasp, “The truth? About your past life?”

Haeron nods slowly, “Yes. I have kept it from them for long enough as it is.”

Daenerys reaches down and takes one of Haeron’s hands on her own, gently squeezing it. Rhaenys follows her example, placing a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. The touch of her soft, pink lips to the back of his hand sends a thrill through his body but he ignores it.

The three walk back to the library, nodding at Ser Gerold once more as they enter. Haeron slowly walks towards his mother and grandmother, his nervousness getting worse with each step.

Rhaenys and Daenerys keep their hands locked around his, leading him to the couch with Lyanna and Rhaella.

Lyanna looks at him curiously, “What is it, Haeron?”

Haeron sighs and says, “Before I begin, remember that I am still me. I am Haeron Targaryen, First of his name.”

Lyanna frowns, “I know you are. I named you. Well, Rhaegar and I did.”

Haeron smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you remember when I was born how I seemed unusually intelligent?”

Lyanna nods, “Of course. You saved my life moments after being born.”

Haeron nods, “Yes, I did. I couldn’t bear to lose both of my parents…again.”

Lyanna frowns, “Again? What do you mean again?”

Haeron takes a deep breath, “It will be quicker if I just show you.”

Lyanna and Rhaella both nod and Haeron uses his power to transfer parts of his memories to his mother and grandmother. Both gasp at the contents of the memories, Lyanna’s eyes filling with tears.

“You…you have lived before now?” Rhaella asks.

Haeron nods slowly. “Yes.”

Lyanna sadly asks, “And both of your parents were murdered?”

Haeron nods again.

“Let me get this straight. Fate and Death offered you a second chance, allowing you to pick between a new life or retrying your old one. And you chose this one.” Rhaella says.

Haeron nods for the third time. “I assume Daenerys and Rhaenys know?”

Haeron sends a smile at the two girls, “Of course.”

“Why are you telling us this now?” Lyanna asks, a few tears still trailing down her cheeks.

Haeron sighs, “Because what I am about to tell you will only make sense if you know about my past.”

“Is this about what you saw in my head?” Rhaella asks.

Haeron nods, “Yes. I am sorry I wasn’t truthful earlier. I was still trying to understand what I saw.”

Rhaella leans forward, placing a hand on her grandson’s cheek. “What did you see, Haeron? Is this what is causing me pain?”

Haeron nods, “I am so sorry, grandmother. I truly do not understand what is happening right now.”

“What did you see, Hae?” Daenerys asks.

“I made my way past grandfather and noticed that the throne was glowing blue. I tried to touch it but when I did, I burned myself.” He says, holding up his burned palm.

Rhaenys goes to ask a question but before she can, Haeron continues, “Once I touched it, I was flooded with memories of your past, grandmother.”

Rhaella looks curious, “What did you see?”

“The birth of your children,” Haeron says. Hesitant to add to that statement.

Rhaella frowns, “And? Why is the birth of my children causing me pain?”

“I saw the birth of all of your children. Rhaegar, Viserys, Daenerys, and…” He stops, seeing the eyes of everyone in the room fly open in shock.

Rhaella becomes adamant, “And? What does ‘and’ mean? I only have had three children.”

“I am so sorry, grandmother.” He takes a deep breath. “I also bore witness to the birth of…Visenya Targaryen. Daughter of Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen.”

Rhaella lets out a strangled gasp while Rhaenys falls backward a few steps, her back colliding with a wooden bookshelf. Daenerys lets out a loud gasp, pressing a hand to her forehead in an attempt to stay conscious. Lyanna looks at Haeron in disbelief.

Rhaella sobs, “Ho…how do I no…not remember giving birth to Visenya? How do I not remember her at all? Oh, what have I done?”

Haeron raises a hand, “This isn’t your fault, grandmother. I spoke with Fate after fleeing earlier. She says that your child was stillborn. She never even lived. As a way to prevent yourself from remembering that pain, your mind somehow buried that memory.”

Rhaella sobs harder, “Oh, my poor girl. Oh, no, no, no!”

Haeron closes his eyes, the emotions running high in the room. “I am sorry, grandmother. I can’t imagine how much this hurts you right now.”

Rhaella nods, though she continues to sob. “How do I not remember her? How did no one know I lost a child?”

Haeron takes a deep breath, “I do not understand that either. I believe that you may have hidden your pregnancy from everyone, including your brother.”

Rhaella nods slowly, tears still rolling down her pale cheeks. 

Haeron turns to Dany and Rhae, seeing his sadness mirrored on their faces. He turns and presses a kiss to his grandmother’s brow before turning and walking towards the door. Rhaenys and Daenerys follow close behind him

The three walk past Ser Gerold and head back outside. When they arrive at the dragons, Haeron says, “Fate has told me something else.”

Rhaenys looks curious. “What? What has he told you?”

“We have another family member in Westeros. I would like for the three of us to go visit him.”

Daenerys and Rhaenys gasp, “Really? Where? How will we visit him?”

Haeron smirks at Rhaenys, “Come now, sister. We will _apparate._ It is the fastest method of travel that exists.”

Rhaenys sighs, her dark eyes glimmering in the light of the sun. “Why can’t we just wait until we invade.”

Haeron sighs, “I am afraid our dear Maester Aemon does not have long to live. He is past his time, holding onto life just so he can meet us.”

Daenerys frowns, “We need to go meet him then. Maybe you can save him with magic.”

Haeron shakes his head sadly, “According to Fate, he is already far too near old for my magic to have any effect on him. I may be able to ease his pain but I will not be able to stop him from dying.”

Rhaenys nods, her dark eyes trailing down Haeron’s face. “I understand. Where is Aemon now?”

Haeron smiles softly, though his violet eyes remain sad. “He works as the Maester of Castle Black. A part of the wall guarding against the approaching winter.”

Rhaenys' black curls follow her movement as she nods once more before saying, “So…we are apparating?”

Haeron chuckles, “Dear sister, I would never allow anything to happen to you. You have to know that by now.”

Rhaenys sighs but nods, causing Daenerys to laugh, “If we return in once piece, I will allow you to teach me to apparate. As you have said, it may save my life to be able to get out of tough situations in the blink of an eye.”

Haeron nods, smiling at his sister. He places the palm of his right hand on the back of his sister’s neck, sending a shiver through her body. “I love you, Rhaenys. I will do everything in my power to keep my family alive.”

He turns to Daenerys, placing his left palm on her cheek gently, “My family means everything to me. More than any crown ever could.”

Daenerys smiles, “We know, Hae. And that is exactly why you will make an excellent king. You actually are against gaining such a position of power but you realize that you will be making the world a better place by taking your place on the throne.”

“Our place.” Haeron interrupts.

Daenerys looks confused, “What?”

“I meant what I said. _Our place._ I will not become king without the two of you at my side.”

Rhaenys laughs, “Oh, sweet brother. You sound like you are proposing to us.”

Haeron’s pale skin blushes slightly but he doesn’t deny the accusation. Rather, he retaliates, “Maybe I am.”

The three break into laughter for a moment before remembering where they need to go. “Take my hands,” Haeron says softly.

Rhaenys reaches behind her back and takes the hand from her neck into her hand. She squeezes it gently, smiling up at her brother. She leans up and places a kiss to his neck just below is ear. The touch causing Haeron to shiver suddenly. The gesture feels highly intimate, the touch of her soft lips to the tender skin beneath his ear leaving a fire behind when she puts back.

Daenerys takes Haeron’s hand from her cheek and places it at her side. “Ready?” Haeron asks.

Daenerys smirks, pressing a kiss to Haeron’s shoulder as that is as high on his body as she can reach. “Yes, nephew. Let’s go.”

“Well, here goes nothing. We are returning to Westeros for the first time in over a decade.”

Haeron closes his eyes, awaiting Fate’s assistance with the location. A moment later, he senses a new bit of knowledge in his mind and nods. He focuses on the new information and with a loud pop, the three Targaryens disappear.

**A/N.**

**First off, I apologize to those of you who received an email a few days ago about chapter nine. I did indeed publish chapter nine a few days ago but quickly realized that it was not the way I wanted it and presented many flaws.**

**Again, I apologize.**

**Here we go! Their first trip to Westeros since they escaped Robert’s rebellion.**

**The next chapter will focus on their meeting with Aemon and subsequently, the beginning of the second arc of this story.**

**The ‘pre-phase’ of this story is nearly over as the first bit of the action will begin once there are no years before the series begins. (Once the BSB is 0). My current plan is the have (approximately) ten chapters per ‘phase’ of this story, though it could be more or less.**

**The second phase of this story will focus on the completion of their training and the beginning of their conquest. Their first targets will all be in Essos as they will need to build up their military power in order to conquer a continent.**

**I hope you all are okay with ‘Jon Snow’ being born as Ashara Dayne’s son. He will eventually be in this story more, though not for a while…**

**Either way, I am blown away with the support I have on this story. Thank you all so much!**


	10. Chapter Ten(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M.

 **Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter.

**Chapter Ten(Castle Black)**

**_Location: Castle Black, The North. Time: Continuation(4 YBS)._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

The feeling of being squeezed through a dark tunnel is intense as the three Targaryens travel across the planet. Haeron begins to wonder whether or not they should have waited but immediately decides against that idea, “ _Aemon might not even live that long. I have to meet him before he dies._ ”

A few moments later, the three appear in a group of trees, their feet sinking into a snow bed. Haeron grimaces at the frigid feeling of the frozen water against his skin, his body used to the warm weather of Essos. Haeron mutters a spell under his breath, his skin warming up instantly.

Besides him, Daenerys asks, “Was that you?”

Haeron smiles, “Of course it was. Who else do you know that could have done that?”

Rhaenys chuckles, her eyes glancing around them. The sky above them glimmers with stars, the moon casting a silvery glow onto the snow. Haeron’s eyes find search around them for a moment before coming to a rest on a blueish material he sees a couple hundred feet away. He casts his eyes up, astonishment flooding though him at the sheer height of the wall. It looms overhead, the top of it disappearing into low-hanging clouds.

“Wow…” Haeron mutters, Daenerys and Rhaenys nodding in agreement.

They are drawn out of their thoughts by the sound of horse hooves coming towards them, joined by voices. Two riders come into sight, one holding a torch in one hand. Their voices ring over the complete silence as more snow begins to fall. They are heading back towards the wall.

Daenerys ducks behind a tree, gesturing for Haeron and Rhaenys to follow her lead. Haeron ducks behind a tall tree. Rhaenys appears just behind him, pressing herself to Haeron’s back behind the tree. The two riders guide their horses past them, continuing to speak in hushed voices. Haeron frowns, his mind creating a slight recognition to one of the riders, making him cock his head.

Rhaenys notices Haeron thought-process and asks in a whisper, her lips brushing against his ear, “Do you recognize him, Hae?”

Haeron slowly shakes his head, “Him? No. He reminds me of someone else, though.”

“Who?”

“My sister’s brother. My uncle.” Haeron sighs. “I am not sure why, though.”

Rhaenys nods slowly, looking at Haeron thoughtfully, “Do you a plan as to how we are going to get into this outpost and get to Aemon’s chambers without being seen?”

Haeron shakes his head, “No. Unfortunately, we are all three pretty recognizable, especially me. With the connection to our dragons and the magic in our veins, we are unusually built. Taller, stronger, faster…”

“I have an idea.” Daenerys pipes up from her tree a few feet away.

Both turn to look at her. “What if you, Haeron, cast a…what is it called? A disillusionment charm?” At Haeron’s nod, Daenerys continues. “With the disillusionment charm on, we should be able to reach Aemon’s chambers.”

Haeron nods slowly, “I do not know the words for the disillusionment charm. _Dumbledore_ never saw fit to teach me actually helpful magic.”

Daenerys frowns, “Are you saying we won’t be able to use this plan?”

Haeron shakes his head, “No, I might be able to replicate the spell’s effects using intent. After all, intent means everything when it comes to magic.”

Daenerys nods. Haeron closes his eyes, reaching for his wellspring of magical power within himself. As soon as he reaches it, a wave of warmth flows over him. After a moment, he focuses on himself, Daenerys, and Rhaenys. He wills all of them to match their surroundings, to blend in with the drifts of snow and the tall trees. After a moment, Haeron opens his eyes. He smiles when he cannot see Daenerys or Rhaenys immediately, only making out their forms when he looks carefully.

Rhaenys takes a step away from Haeron, the snow crunching beneath her feet. “That might be a problem, also,” Rhaenys says.

Haeron nods, looking down at their feet. He mutters, “ _Silencio._ ”

His magic rolls over them again and Haeron lifts up a foot, bringing it down. As the spell suggests, there is still a very quiet sound with each step, but nowhere near what it would be normally.

The three Targaryens turn their focus on the wall and Haeron says, “We need to stick together. Getting separated now would not be a good thing.”

Daenerys nods and Haeron can make out the nearly silent sound of her footsteps approaching. Daenerys stands in between Haeron and Rhaenys, clasping Haeron’s right hand in her left. Then she clasps Rhaenys’ left hand in her right.

Ready to begin, the three set out, a cool, crisp air blowing against their Targaryen skin. The wall looms ominously above them, blocking out the light from the moon as they near it. The glowing orb falls behind the tall wall, plunging them into nearly complete darkness.

Clouds drift across the evening sky, making the stars flicker in and out of view. The three continue walking, their footsteps almost inaudible. However, with each step they take, their footprints appear in the snow.

“Know any spells to stop footprints?” Daenerys asks, a bit of laughter in her voice.

Haeron chuckles, “I’m afraid not. That wasn’t exactly something I had to think about in my past life.”

They get closer and closer to the wall, the gusts of wind becoming stronger and colder. “I may need to apparate us to the top of the wall—.” He stops talking, his eyes following the flicker of the torch one of the riders was holding.

“Never mind. Grab my hands!”

Daenerys and Rhaenys both do and Haeron apparates them into the tunnel in the wall just as the gate closes. The riders are now just ahead of them and they come to a stop when they hear the pop the apparition creates. “Did ya head tha’?” One man asks.

The man not holding the torch slowly nods, “Yes. It was probably just one of the mechanisms releasing ice or something.”

The other man doesn’t argue with the second man’s assumption and the two continue their way deeper into the tunnel.

Light comes into view, the light of multiple torches placed in strategic locations on the walls. The light from the rider’s torch reflects on a sheet of ice on the floor, sending a glow onto the ceiling of the tunnel.

When they finally reach the end of the tunnel, the two riders are stopped by another man. “First Ranger Benjen. I am terribly sorry to inform you that Maester Aemon’s condition has drastically worsened. He is on his last legs. I doubt he will see the night through.”

At those words, Haeron’s eyes widen in horror. The three Targaryens dart away from the riders, heading for a more deserted part of the Castle.

They come to a wooden staircase and quickly walk up to it, making sure to keep their footfalls as quiet as possible.

Haeron leads the two girls to a wooden railing and mutters quietly, “I am going to try and reach out with my aura. Only another with Dragon’s Blood would be able to sense it.”

Haeron tries for a moment but senses nothing. He tries again, concentrating on putting all his power into his effort. “I can’t do it. The apparition to get here has emptied my magical core for the moment. You two do it. You know how.”

Rhaenys nods, instantly closing her eyes. Haeron can see a subtle shift in the air where she stands when her eyes blink closed.

After a moment of silence, Rhaenys whispers quietly, “He is this way. His aura is extremely weak. It appears that man was telling the truth. Aemon is dying.”

Haeron allows a feeling of sadness at the idea that Aemon will never get to see the dragons. Never get to see the return of House Targaryen. Never get to see the Usurper thrown from his stolen throne. A lone tear rolls out of one of his vivid violet eyes, dripping slowly down his face. In midair, the droplet freezes, colliding with the snow-covered wooden platform.

With heavy breaths, the three set off with Rhaenys guiding them. They have to press themselves to one wall as a man with silver hair and a gruff-looking face walks by, his features seemingly set in a permanent scowl.

They soon come to a wooden door that is open a crack, hushed voices emanating from the room. A moment later, a kind-looking older man walks out after saying loud enough that Haeron is able to hear it, “Say your goodbyes, Benjen. Aemon has requested to die in peace.”

A few more hushes whispers come from the room before the man that reminds Haeron of someone exits. The three Targaryens dart into the door before the man closes it, instantly looking at a small bed in one corner of the room. Haeron casts a few spells at the door, one to lock it and one to prevent any sound from getting out.

The three walk over to it and Haeron dissipates the disillusionment charm he had in place. Haeron walks to stand at the head of the bed, looking down at a small, frail form of Aemon Targaryen.

He takes a deep breath, reaching down to press his palms gently against Aemon’s back. He wills away the old man’s pain, directing his magic to all of the small ailments he can sense hindering Aemon.

A sigh of relief leaves the old man’s lips and slowly, his eyes blink open. They stare up, unfocused and unseeing.

The man lets out a low groan of pain, blinking his eyes a few more times. A low gasp leaves the old man’s lips as his eyes come into slight focus, seeing more than he has in years.

His eyes soon find Haeron where he stands at his bedside, and for a moment, the old man does not react. Then, in a hoarse whisper, “Family.”

Haeron nods, feeling his sadness return. “Yes…” He brings one of his hands down to clasp the old man’s, the frail skin of Aemon’s hands already far colder than a human’s body should be, especially a dragon’s.

The old man reaches up with his other hand, brushing it against Haeron’s cheek. A cough leaves the old man’s lips, a few droplets of blood coming with it.

Daenerys and Rhaenys walk to stand at Haeron’s side, each kneeling down to be closer to the old man. The weak smile appears on the old man’s lips as he says softly, eyes focused on Daenerys, “You look like Rhaella.”

A choked sob leaves Daenerys’ lips, “I—I’m her daughter.”

Aemon nods, “Daenerys, right?”

“Yes,” Daenerys says softly.

Aemon smiles, “Named after Daenys the Dreamer?”

Daenerys doesn’t respond immediately, not knowing what to answer.

Aemon nods slowly, “I am sure you are. Your mother always enjoyed stories about Daenys.”

Aemon shifts under the blankets slightly, his old bones not allowing him to move much. As he did with Haeron, he brings one shaking hand up to brush against Daenerys’ pale skin. Then, his eyes fall upon Rhaenys.

“Ah, and you have Rhaegar’s look, along with that of the Dornish. Can I assume you are Rhaenys, daughter of Rhaegar and Elia?”

Rhaenys nods. Aemon smiles sadly, “I am sorry for your loss, child. I was overjoyed to learn of your survival of the Rebellion.”

Once more, Aemon is cut short by a fit of coughs. Daenerys leans over to Haeron, “Are there not any spells you can use to ease his suffering more? Those coughs look extremely painful for him.”

Before Haeron can respond, Aemon does, “I do not know what you mean by spells, child, but it is too late. My time has come. I have been on this Earth for nearly a hundred years.”

Haeron nods sadly, adding, “The spells have no effect on him, Dany.”

Aemon’s eyes turn back to Haeron, “I take it you are Haeron Targaryen?”

Haeron nods.

Aemon smiles again, his hand clasping Haeron’s tighter. “I was told all about you three by your uncle,” Aemon says, looking at Haeron. “I summoned him here with the worry that I would die before I could meet you. I gave him something that is now his responsibility to return to you.”

Aemon is once more caught in a coughing fit, taking his hand out of Haeron’s to cover his mouth. When he pulls it away, more blood drips down Haeron’s palm.

“This is it.” Aemon wheezes out. “I am glad to leave this Earth in the presence of family I once thought nonexistent.”

Haeron feels his chest tighten at the words, memories of his past life and all those he lost flashing before his eyes. “Before…I leave this mortal world, you need to know something.”

Haeron leans in closer to Aemon as his words become softer. “The Long Night is coming, Haeron. You must prepare for it. It will take all the armies of Westeros to stop what is to come.”

Aemon takes in a deep breath, speaking before any of the three can respond. “There is something else. Move the bookcase.” Haeron stands up, confused.

He walks over to the bookcase and slowly moves it, doing his best to prevent any sound.

Daenerys leans down to Aemon’s lips, listening intently. A moment later, she rises to her feet and says, “He says to break the floorboards. There is a chest beneath them.”

Haeron concentrates on his refilling magic and mutters, “ _Bombarda_.”

The floorboards splinter, chips of wood flying into the air. Haeron waits a moment for the dust to fade before looking down into the hole. A wooden chest lies in it, a silver lock keeping the contents hidden away.

Haeron reaches down and pulls it out, carrying it back over to Aemon’s bedside. Daenerys leans down once more, “He says to open it.”

Haeron quickly mutters, “ _Alohomora._ ”

The lock disengages, allowing Haeron to pull off the small chain keeping the chest closed. Haeron plows gently on the top of the box, a cloud of dust floating into the air. He reaches down and unclasps a silver clasp holding the chest closed. He slowly raises the lid, his eyes widening in disbelief at what he sees.

Daenerys and Rhaenys see his eyes widen and walk to his side to look into the chest. “More…?” Daenerys asks, her eyes wide.

Aemon hears, “More? So what Lord Stark says is correct. You have reintroduced dragons to the world?”

Haeron nods, “Yes. We have three others that are already enormous. Mine is black with golden scales scatted throughout.”

“Mine is black with red scales scattered at random around his body.” Daenerys supplies.

“And mine is black with purple underbelly scales and some dark purple on the underside of his wings.” Rhaenys finishes.

Aemon nods, “I…I wish I could see them…” He coughs out, his voice cracking.

Haeron smiles softly, handing the chest to Rhaenys. He walks over to Aemon and gently presses one palm to the old man’s forehead. He transfers a brief memory into his mind from the day before, the three of them flying high above the clouds.

Aemon gasps, his eyes lighting up. “They are magnificent,” He states.

Once more, he is stopped by a fit of coughing. His frail body heaves from the effect of the coughs, more blood splattering down onto the blanket covering him. “I have one final bit of advice for you, you three.”

The three lean in close, listening intently, “ _The flame of Dragon’s Fire may be one of the most potent weapons on this planet…_ ” With each word he speaks, his voice becomes quieter until it seises entirely.

The old man is unable to finish his sentence, his last breath leaving his body in a quiet whoosh. Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys bow their heads, looking down at their relative as his breathing stops and his eyes lose the glimmer of life.

And so dies Aemon Targaryen, son of Maekar Targaryen and Dyanna Dayne. He dies with a soft smile on his face, having seen dragons in the world once more. He dies with his family by his side. Because, after all, _A Targaryen along in the world is a terrible thing…_

**_Location: Winterfell, The North. Time: Continuation(4 YBS)._ **

**——Ned Stark POV——**

Ned rests his hands on a wooden railing, overlooking the training yard. See Rodrik stands in the yard, a wooden sword in one hand. His firstborn son Robb watches the Master-At-Arm’s every move, doing his best to copy them. At his side, the much smaller figure of his second-born daughter holding a much smaller wooden sword imitates Ser Rodrik’s movements.

It had taken a lot of time to convince his wife to allow Arya to train, Catelyn seeing it as not proper and unladylike. It had taken Ned promising her that no harm would befall their child.

As soon as Arya had begun the lessons, she had worked harder than any other child her age. She would go out in the evenings before meals and work on her archery.  
Another plus to Arya’s training was that her behavior with Septa Mordane greatly improved. Just as Arya had promised it would.

His eldest daughter had been extremely opposed to her sister learning to fight, finding it improper. Sansa takes much after her mother, including her looks. In fact, none of Ned’s children resemble him greatly. As Arya grew, her appearance became more and more like Lyanna’s, as did her fiery personality.

Ned is drawn from his thoughts when Robb and his ward, Theon begin to spar. Their movements are still somewhat sloppy, but Ned is proud of his son’s capabilities at his young age of twelve.

The Greyjoy boy has proven to Ned Stark that even Greyjoy’s can change. The boy hardly ever speaks of his father or his heritage, unless it’s to a whore when trying to convince them to lay with him. Ned sighs, shaking his head. He disapproves of the use of whores to satisfy sexual desire, seeing it as selfish and dishonorable.

Ned is dragged from his thoughts once more by his youngest son running up behind him, his footsteps ringing over the snowy landscape. “Father, father.” The boy calls out excitedly, his small arms wrapping around Ned’s leg.

Ned chuckles, reaching down to ruffle his son’s brown hair. “Hello, Rickon. Where is your mother?”

Catelyn appears on the wooden platform a moment later, panting for breath. She places her hands on her hips and says, “Rickon Stark! What do you think you are doing?”

Ned laughs, instantly seeing the humor in his wife’s eyes as well. Rickon looks up at his father, his eyes glimmering with the naivety only possessed by those in their youth. Ned prays to the Old Gods and the New that his children won’t have to experience any of what he has, but he knows that is unlikely.

 _When_ Haeron returns, Ned knows both he and his children will be drawn into war once more.

“Gage is making some meat pies for dinner tonight, along with Sansa’s favorite lemoncakes,” Catelyn informs him.

Ned nods, “Excellent. I will go tell Robb and Arya to prepare for dinner.”

Catelyn nods, though her eyes flicker at the mention of her daughter and where she is.

Ned turns his attention back to his two-year-old son, saying, “Go with your mother, Rickon. I will see you at dinner.”

The boy giggles, running back over to his wife’s side. Catelyn lifts him up into her arms, turning and walking away.

Ned rises back to his feet, walking to the wooden stairs that lead down to the training yard. He smiles when he sees Rodrik gently guiding Arya through a low-intensity spar.

He walks over to stand behind Arya, smiling when she turns around, sword at the ready. The image of his seven-year-old daughter brandishing a sword causing a chuckle to leave his lips. “It’s dinner time, Arya. Go get changed.”

The girl pouts, her lips drawing up into a frown. “But father…” She whines.

Ned shakes his head, “No. Go, Arya. You can resume where you left off again tomorrow.”

The girl sighs, turning and gently handing her sword to Ser Rodrik before skipping off towards her chambers where a warm bath awaits her.

Ned turns to Robb and Theon, watching as they laugh with one another, trading blows with their sparring swords. “Come now, boys. It’s time for dinner. Go get ready.”

Theon nods immediately, lowering his sword. However, Robb is already swinging his sword and it collides with Theon’s side. A yelp of pain leaves the boy’s lips as she collapses to his knees. His hands clutch his side.

Ned sighs, turning to his son. “Robb, why didn’t you misdirect your sword after swinging?”

Robb hangs his head in shame. “I am sorry, father.”

Ned shakes his head, “It is not me you should be apologizing to.”

Robb turns to Theon, reaching out a hand to pull the former Greyjoy to his feet. Robb mutters something inaudible to the boy and he nods.

The two turn and hand their swords to the waiting Ser Rodrik before both walking towards their chambers.

Ned sighs, reaching up to brush his palm across his brow. “How were they doing, Ser Rodrik?”

The man chuckles, “Your daughter has an appetite for learning, my lord. As always, she listens aptly to every set of instructions I give. Theon and Robb do not seem to understand how important this training is and take it as more of a game. I do not know how to change their outlook on it.”

Ned shakes his head sadly, “I am afraid for them, Ser Rodrik. War is coming. Whether it be from within or without, it is coming all the same. I am praying the war Wull hold off for a while yet, as I want Robb to have the mind of a leader in the case something happens to me.”

Ser Rodrik nods slowly, “I know what you mean, Lord Stark. And forgive me for saying as such, but with King Robert ruling over the Seven Kingdoms, war is made all the more certain.”

Ned flinches at the mention of his former friend, his mind traveling to his last visit to King’s Landing. The way Robert’s demeanor could change from second to second is something that truly scares Ned. The idea that Robert could so easily go from wanting peace to wanting war, even more so.

“You are correct, Ser Rodrik. With Robert on the throne, we will never have true peace. He will always seek to further his personal gain and destroy those he sees as threats. The Greyjoys are a good example of that. I am not saying the Iron Born didn’t deserve what they got because they did, but Robert’s willingness to enter more wars does not bode well. A true king knows when to fight and when to negotiate. Robert only knows violence.”

Ned shakes his head, “Forgive me for using you to voice my thoughts, Ser Rodrik.”

The man shakes his head, “It is of no matter, my lord.”

Ned turns away from the man and sets off towards his chambers, the snow crunching beneath his feet with each step. The clouds overhead begin to darken, blocking out the sun as it lowers in the sky.

The red orb still floats high in the sky, though the dark clouds cover it from time to time. “ _I hope you are safe, Lyanna. You and Haeron. Westeros needs a king. A true king. And I know Haeron is the perfect one for that task._ ”

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Essos. Time: Continuation(4 YBS)._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

The three Targaryens reappear in the Dragon’s Lair behind the manse, all three sullen and sad. Rhaenys and Haeron each clutch one handle of the wooden chest Aemon gave them, gently placing it on the ground. Haeron takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down.

He lowers himself onto a knee, closing his eyes and looking skyward. “ _May you rest in peace, Aemon Targaryen._ ”

Haeron reaches down and picks up the chest once more, setting off towards the manse. When they reach it, Ser Jame comes running up to them. “Your Grace, your mother and grandmother have been looking all over for you. They await you in the library.”

Haeron nods and with Daenerys and Rhaenys at his sides, the three walk towards the manse. Ser Jamie walks just ahead of them and holds the doors open when they reach them. The three quickly make their way to the library, nodding to Lord Commander Gerald as they enter the room.

The moment they enter, they see Rhaella and Lyanna looking at them sternly. Lyanna rises to her feet, “Where have you three been?”

Haeron hesitates, he and Rhaenys walking forward to set the wooden chest down on the table in front of where Rhaella sits. “We made a quick trip.”

Rhaella’s eyes narrow, eyeing the chest. “A quick trip? To where?”

It is Daenerys that answers, “We visited our last surviving Targaryen relative outside of this room.”

Rhaella shakes her head, a sigh leaving her lips. “Who are you talking about, Dany? Where did you three go?”

Rhaenys answers this time, “We visited Aemon Targaryen at the Wall.”

Lyanna’s eyes widen in horror, “The Wall? You mean the wall in the North of Westeros?”

Haeron nods, “Yes, mother. That wall.”

“Why on Earth would you do something so stupid!” Lyanna cries out, taking a step towards her son. “You could have been killed!”

Haeron’s eyes turn slightly colder, the violet depths glimmering dangerously, “We had no choice. Aemon Targaryen is now dead. We had to visit him today because his time on this Earth has ended.”

Lyanna’s mouth falls open, the realization hitting her. Rhaella’s eyes widen, “Aemon was alive? My great-uncle was alive and I didn’t even know it?”

“Yes. He was. He died with us around him, knowing that House Targaryen is on the path to being born again.” Daenerys states.

Lyanna’s eyes turn to the chest. “What is in there?”

Rhaenys reaches down and slowly opens the lid before turning it to face Rhaella and Lyanna. Their eyes widen in shock, “More?” Rhaella asks, echoing Daenerys’ earlier reaction.

In the chest sits three more dragon eggs. One green, one black, and one a light bronze color. Rhaella reaches down, brushing her palm against the surface of one tentatively. She quickly withdraws it, a hiss of pain leaving her lips.

Haeron sighs, “It appears we do not currently have the riders destined to ride these eggs.”

Lyanna smiles slyly, “Maybe they are destined for your children, Hae.”

Hae’s eyes dart towards Daenerys and Rhaenys as his face reddens, seeing his mother’s words having the same effect on the two of them.

Lyanna and Rhaella laugh at the effect the mention of children has on Haeron, causing Haeron to scowl.

He reaches down and closes the chest again before saying, “Well, I am tired, mother. We were up almost all night.”

Daenerys and Rhaenys nod in agreement as they begin to walk out of their room. Haeron picks up the chest, carrying it easily. Lyanna and Rhaella continue to laugh, the sound echoing off the walls of the library.

As Ser Gerald closes the door behind them, Haeron’s eyes fall upon Ser Jorah where he stands across the hall. He wears more traditional and less extravagant armor than the members of the King’s Guard and he nods respectfully to Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys as they pass.

The moment they reach their chambers, the three walk over to their wardrobe. Each selects a nighttime outfit before heading to the large bath. The water is already heated, though it seems colder then they would like.

Haeron reaches into the water, concentrating on heating it up. A moment later, the water boils slightly as steam begins to rise from the surface. Haeron places his clothes to change into next to the ones Daenerys and Rhaenys placed on the small wooden table near the bath.

He quickly removes the long-sleeved black over shirt had on, leaving him in a thin, white cloth shirt. He pulls that over his head, too, leaving his chest bare. His chest is extremely well built and muscled, far more so than anyone else Haeron had seen as Harry Potter.

He reaches down and pulls off the black boots he has on, his socks soon following. He reaches down and tugs off his black, skin-tight pants, leaving him only in small clothes.

Without another thought, he pulls those off, too. He walks over to a set of stairs leading up to the water and climbs in, sighing at the feel of the scalding water against his skin. He remembers something and quickly cancels the warming charm he had cast on the three of them.

A moment later, Daenerys and Rhaenys both join him in the water. Silence rules over the three as they clean themselves, each doing it themselves instead of their usual routine of cleaning each other. Lyanna’s words echo through Haeron’s head and he can’t help but think what his children will look like.

The silence remains for a little while longer, the three just enjoying the warm water. The silence is broken by Rhaenys saying, “I wish Aemon could have lived longer. He could have watched us return House Targaryen’s rightful place on the throne.”

Daenerys and Haeron nod in agreement, the emotions in the bath turning mournful as they think back to the brief conversation they shared with Aemon.

“I wonder what he was going to say…” Haeron mutters sadly.

“Yeah, now we will never know.” Rhaenys agrees, voice quiet.

Once more, silence falls, only broken by the lapping of water against the sides of the bath and against their skin.

It is Daenerys who brings up the subject they were all avoiding, “Do…do we think it is a possibility that…” She hesitates. “That _Haeron’s_ children will be the ones to ride those eggs?”

Haeron feels a brief pang at Daenerys’ emphasis on his name, recognizing her bitterness. It is Rhaenys who speaks next, “I don’t know…maybe…”

Haeron shakes his head, “I am actually hurt by your words. You should know by now that I will never have children…” He pauses for a moment. “Without the two of you. I refuse to.”

Daenerys shakes her head, “We have discussed this before, yes, Haeron. But that was when we were younger. You have to have realized by now that marriage is the best way to gain allies.”

Haeron scowls, “I swore to the two of you that I will never marry either of you off and I intend to keep that promise. Neither of you will ever leave my side to go with some other _male._ I refuse to allow that.”

Daenerys shakes her head, “We are not worthy of you, Hae. Besides, you mentioned that you think incest is wrong before.”

Haeron’s eyes widen as he thinks back to what he had said.

**_—Flashback—_ **

The three Targaryen children sit in the library, each reading a different book. Haeron is focused on a book about the Targaryen family line and it amazes him just how many of his ancestors committed incest. When he had first arrived in this new life after hearing Fate’s words, he had been disgusted by the idea of doing anything intimate with a member of his family.

For years, he had steadfastly kept to the view. However, as he began to grow older, he began to recognize his aunt and sister for what they were, and slowly, his decision on the matter began to alter.

“I cannot believe how many Targaryens committed incest,” Haeron states, barely paying attention to his words.

Daenerys and Rhaenys look up from their books, “What about it can’t you believe?” Daenerys asks.

Haeron waves a hand randomly, “I don’t know. The idea of _sleeping_ with a member of your family is something that just doesn’t appeal to me at all. It seems like it would change the family dynamic far too much and if anything ever went wrong between the two who chose to commit incest, it would rip the family apart.”

Haeron failed to notice the hurt expression on Daenerys’ face or the shocked one on Rhaenys’. “Is that truly how you feel, Hae?”

Haeron looks up from his book, his violet eyes meeting Dany’s purple ones. He notices the range of emotions in her eyes, ranging from anger to sadness. “Well, is it?” Rhaenys pushes.

Haeron is shocked by how badly he wants to say _no._ By how badly he wants to tell Dany and Rhae how his opinions are changing and it is _because_ of the two of them. But he can’t. It takes all of his strength, but he nods his head slowly.

Daenerys looks away, but not before Haeron sees acceptance and hurt in her eyes. Rhaenys does the same, a disappointed breath of air leaving her lips.

**_—Flashback End—_ **

Haeron shakes his head, “No, you don’t understand. When I said those words, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I…I was trying to not allow my emotions to rule my actions. Because if I had…” He shakes himself, the water lapping against his body at the movement. “It is I who am not worthy of either of you. I am the one who pushed the two of you away and delayed what I am now sure we have all wanted for a while now.”

Daenerys’ eyes widen at Haeron’s explanation of the hurtful words he had uttered over a year ago, a bit of hope slipping its way into her heart.

Rhaenys cocks her head, “Why did you not wish for your emotions to rule your actions, Hae?”

Haeron sighs, “Because last time I let my emotions cloud my judgment, I was betrayed. I know that neither of you would ever do that to me, but I couldn’t risk letting my heart break again. I fear that if that happens, there would be nothing stopping me from losing all sense of morals.”

Rhaenys nods to his explanation to, silence falling over the three once more. The tension in the air is heavy, suffocating. Forcing Haeron to rise to his feet. Droplets of water roll down his chest and face, dripping out of his silver hair. His violet eyes darken as the tension over the three increases.

Daenerys goes to speak again, “Hae—.”

Before she can say a word, Haeron is across the bath, standing just in front of her. He is over a foot taller than her so he looks down into her eyes. The emotions swimming around in her purple orbs affirm Haeron’s own thoughts and gently, ever so gently, Haeron connects his lips to Daenerys’.

A gasp leaves both of them at once at the feeling, a wave of unrivaled heat throwing their caution to the wind. Daenerys reaches up, her hands finding their way into Haeron’s silver locks.

Before things can go further, Haeron points a hand at the door to the room and mutters locking and silencing charms.

Haeron turns his attention back to the beautiful woman beneath him, hands trailing down Daenerys’ back, coming to a stop just above her backside. His lips move in tandem with Daenerys’, the desire he feels like nothing he has ever felt. His hands trail a little lower, coming to a rest on Daenerys’ soft, supple backside. He pulls her body closer to his own, lowering the two of them down to the ledge that sits just beneath the surface of the water.

Daenerys’ breasts press against his own chest, a feeling unlike anything he has ever felt. He feels his manhood brush along her inner thigh, creating a tingling sensation that travels up his body in a shiver.

He gently squeezes Daenerys’ backside, causing her mouth opens in a moan. His tongue darts passed her pink lips, coming into brief contact with her own tongue. The inexperience of the two begins to show when their kiss becomes sloppy, leading to the two of them breaking apart, Haeron standing up once more.

Haeron takes in a deep breath, looking down at Daenerys’ beautiful body. Her pink lips are slightly swollen from the force of his advance and the buds of her nipples are hard with desire.

Her silver hair lies in the water behind her, splayed out around her head.

The evidence of Haeron’s own desire is slightly hidden beneath the surface of the water, though both Daenerys and Rhaenys see it.

As Haeron tries to catch his breath, Rhaenys appears in front of him. Her height is more similar to Haeron’s than Daenerys’ allowing her to look directly into his eyes. Her charcoal black eyes shine with lust, something that causes Haeron’s breath to catch.

Rhaenys reaches up, placing one hand behind his head. He does the same, his other hand resting on her right shoulder.

In a moment, Rhaenys pulls Haeron towards her, moving her head forward at the same time. Their lips connect, and like with Daenerys, a spark travels all the way through both of them.

Haeron tries to do what he did to Daenerys and lower Rhaenys’ body down to the shelf of stone beneath the water but she stops him. Rhaenys flips their positions, forcing Haeron down onto the stone. His back presses against the wall of the tub, Rhaenys’ body soon on top of his own. Rhaenys’ features are sharper than Daenerys’, though her beauty is still unrivaled.

The Dornish are known for being emphatic lovers and Rhaenys seems to be living up to that. She presses her body as far against Haeron’s as she can, her mouth still melded to Haeron’s. Her dark brown/almost black hair drips water from when she washed it, her muscles coiled and hot.

Her legs come up, wrapping around Haeron’s middle. This action presses Rhaenys’ groin to Haeron’s own, causing them both to moan. The sound is muted by their still-sealed mouths, coming out as more of a grunt.

After a few more moments, Haeron uses his strength to gently push Rhaenys away. He smiles softly up at her, his violet eyes glimmering with love.

He turns to Daenerys and smiles at her, too. He turns Rhaenys around so she faces away from him before pulling her onto his lap. He hadn’t thought of the effect that would have on his body, however, and lets out a low groan. Rhaenys hears this and rocks her hips slightly, creating friction against his manhood.

Haeron brings his hands down and stops his sister’s movements, lifting her up and placing her to his right. Daenerys quickly sits down, placing herself on Rhaenys’ right.

As Haeron watches, Rhaenys turns toward their aunt and places her hands on Daenerys’ cheeks, pulling the two together. Haeron watches on as his aunt and sister make out, both of them letting out little noises.

Haeron feels his manhood rise at the action, willing himself not to pleasure himself.

After a few moments, Daenerys and Rhaenys separate, both grinning at one another.

The three all smile at one another, obviously all now certain they made the right decision. Rhaenys reaches up, running her left hand through Haeron’s silver hair. Haeron closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling immensely.

After a few more minutes in the water, the three exit the bath and pull on their new clothes. They walk to adjourning bed chambers, Haeron undoing the spells he cast on the door.

They enter the bedroom and make their way to the bed. Rhaenys climbs in first, pulling the light sheet over her. Haeron climbs in next, settling himself beneath the sheet at Rhaenys’ side. Daenerys is the last one to join them, resting her head on Haeron’s chest.

Much like years before, Haeron mutters out, “Avy jorrāelan.”

The two females at his side respond in kind, pressing themselves tighter together.

As they begin to dose off, their thoughts are on what they witnessed today. All three of them mourn the loss of Aemon but are also glad they got to meet him.

“We need to finish our training,” Daenerys mutters. “It is time Westeros fear House Targaryen once more.”

Haeron and Rhaenys murmur agreement. The three fall asleep, none of them worrying about war. They fall asleep, joyful in the fact that they have each other. Happy that they won’t have to fight a war alone. The New Generation of House Targaryen falls asleep, preparing to take back what is rightfully theirs.

**A/N.**

** **EDIT: Some people are commenting, complaining about how Haeron is now technically a pedophile. I mean, what did you expect? It is a GoT fanfic combined with the fact that they are Targaryens. He is the same age as Daenerys and soon it will be Rhaenys who is the of-age one as she is four years older than them. I honestly don't understand why you would be surprised. I wasn't about to delay them from getting intimate until the war starts. That would make little to no sense. Either way, as I have said before, if you don't like my story, just leave. And besides, Haeron IS NOT a pedophile. He is attracted to a girl his age and one a few years older than him. Even if you take into account the age he was as Harry Potter, he was fifteen when he died. That means that he is attracted to a seventeen-year-old and a thirteen-year-old. It has nothing to do with their age and all to do with their blood. THEY ARE TARGARYEN!** **

**I apologize for the delay. School is a bitch and destroys my planned writing schedules. I have been staying up past midnight to continue my work on this story as I love writing for you all.**

**This is the penultimate chapter of the Pre-Phase section of this book and will lead to Phase One. This chapter sets everything up, allowing me to begin writing the more interesting part of this story.**

**Explanations:**

**I hope the conversation and sendoff of Aemon Targaryen turned out okay. It took me a while to decide how I wanted it written and didn’t want it to seem out of place. I am aware that technically Aemon does not die for around another NINE years on the show, but that is not how it went in this story. His death will serve as motivation for Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys to truly want to conquer Westeros and return their house to its former glory.**

**Next, the part with Ned Stark may have seemed slow, but I needed it to give you readers the ages of the Stark children and the slight change that Ned and Catelyn are aware of Arya’s training.**

**Last, the second part of Haeron’s POV this chapter finally gave y’all a taste of what is to come. The flashback where Haeron mentions his disapproval for incest is a way to show that he is slowly losing many of the beliefs he held as Harry Potter. Those beliefs will only prove as hindrances as a Targaryen and a King.**

**The sex scene is something I hesitated to add so soon as the three are still underage.**

**These are the ages of the main characters as of now:**

**Rhaenys Targaryen - 17.**

**Haeron Targaryen - 13.**

**Daenerys Targaryen - 13.**

**Jon Sand - 13.**

**Robb Stark - 12.**

**Joffrey Baratheon - 11.**

**Myrcella Baratheon - 10.**

**Sansa Stark - 9.**

**Arya Stark - 7.**

**Tommen Baratheon - 7.**

**Bran Stark - 6.**

**Rickon Stark - 2.**

**Thank you all so much for reading! I love all of the feedback I receive and it makes my day when I see a new review! Please feel free to point out any errors I make as I am sure I do make them. I do not have a BETA reader so I have to rely on myself to spellcheck myself, along with making sure stuff makes sense.**

**However, if you do not like something I do, just click off.**


	11. Chapter Eleven(Pre-Phase Conclusion)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M.

 **Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter.

**Chapter Eleven(Power)**

**A/N. THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING. Heed previous warnings carefully. If you do not wish to read underage or that makes you uncomfortable, you have come to the wrong place. This is a GoT story and thus, incest and underage are common…**

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Essos. Time: One Year Later(3 YBS)._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Sweat roles down Haeron’s body as his sword meets the infamous blade, _Dawn._ Haeron focuses solely on the blade, looking for any tell as to what the Sword of the Morning’s next move will be.

His violet eyes trail their way up, meeting Arthur Dayne’s focused expression. The King’s Guard has the audacity to smirk at the young king, shifting his stance to face Haeron more directly.

From beside them, Rhaenys calls out, “You’ve got this, Hae!”

Haeron’s hands clasp the handle of his blade looser, allowing it to dangle from his grip slightly. Ser Arthur notices this, his eyes narrowing. With a quick move, Arthur is upon him, _Dawn_ singing through the air.

Haeron raises up his blade, allowing _Dawn_ to strike it. Due to his loose grip, Arthur falls slightly off balance and Haeron quickly moves to make a strike towards the man. However, it seems Arthur anticipated Haeron’s play as he expertly parries the blow in front of his chest. “That was a good try, Your Grace.” The man says, his blade singing through the air again. “But not good enough.”

Haeron feels his frustration mount, “How are you so good?” He complains. Mentally, he adds, “ _And how am I ever going to beat you if I can’t even beat Ser Jamie yet?_ ”

The man lets out a short laugh, “That’s a good question, Your Grace. I must say, however, you are getting much better.”

Haeron shakes his head, moving to block Arthur’s next blow as it races toward his legs. _Dawn_ and his own sword clang together once more, a noticeable chip of metal flying off of Haeron’s sword.

Haeron pulls back his sword. In an impressive display of precision and skill, Haeron spins the blade one way while passing it into his other hand behind his back. He then sends a high-powered strike towards the King’s Guard’s side.

Instead of blocking the blow as Haeron had hoped, the King’s Guard ducks under the blow, his own sword coming up to rest at Haeron’s neck. “Well fought, Your Grace. However, that move you just used leaves you too exposed. You overextended, allowing me to duck under your guard and land what could be a kill strike to your chest or neck.”

Haeron nods, “Is there a way for me to prevent that while still using that move? I feel like that more would work on most fighters that aren’t _you_.”

Arthur looks thoughtful, “It is a possibility but would require immense skill and perfect timing. Doing that at the wrong time could result in your death. And just because I am better than the average swordsman doesn’t give you a reason to not protect yourself against the possibility that that window of weakness could be used against you.”

The King’s Guard brandishes _Dawn_ again, bringing it up to his chest. “Here. Watch me.”

Without any practice, the Sword of the Morning perfectly executes the move Haeron had taken weeks to develop. “Did you see what I did differently?” The man asks.

Haeron shakes his head. The man sighs, “Princess Rhaenys, Princess Daenerys, come here. This could prove useful for you as well.”

The two appear at Haeron’s sides a moment later, both holding swords as well. Arthur says, “Watch closely. I am going to perform that move in slow motion.”

Haeron watches Arthur’s every movement as he executes the move, noticing a slight dip in the man’s hands. “What did you see?” Arthur questions.

“You dipped your hands slightly before sending the sword behind your back,” Haeron says.

Arthur nods approvingly, “Good. Anything else?”

“Unlike Haeron, you passed the sword behind your back further to the side you were passing the blade to.” Daenerys supplies.

Arthur smiles at Daenerys, “Correct again. The lowering of my hands allows for a more smooth transition and could even prove to be a feint against a less-knowledgeable opponent. By dropping my hands a bit, it allows my arms to flow more freely into the motion behind me as I spin. The spin of your hips is the most important part of this move.”

He pauses, showing them as he drops his arms and sends the sword halfway behind him. “If you do not move your hips and decide to send the sword behind your back, it could result in you leaving yourself wide open. Especially to someone with a longsword. Now, to what Princess Daenerys noticed.”

He turns away from them so his back is to them, “Watch again.”

He does the move again, the action of passing _Dawn_ from hand to hand, flawless. “By making the transition further to the side I am sending the sword, it will allow the arm receiving the sword the necessary time to make a quick and precise parry or attack. Also, once you master this, you could use this move to block an attack behind your back like this.”

Arthur performs the move again, holding the sword in both hands behind his head. “However, this parry would not work against a strong opponent as the force of their blow could force your own blade into your back. However, if you strengthen your wrists and arms enough, as I know you three have, then you should be able to block the blow from any average swordsman.”

Arthur pauses again, calling out, “Ser Jamie, please join me.”

The golden-haired King’s Guard walks over to them, a slight grin appearing on his face. “Ser Jamie, I need your help to demonstrate how this move works.”

Jamie nods and draws his sword. “I want you to send a strike at my back in the middle of this move.” Arthur orders.

Jamie nods and readies his weapon. Arthur begins the move, dust rising from the ground at his quick movements. In the middle of the move, Jamie swings his sword at the small of Arthur’s back. With a clang of steel, _Dawn_ perfectly deflects Jamie’s attack, holding firm. In an instant, Arthur spins the other way, Ser Jamie barely having time to deflect the move.

Arthur pulls back, turning to face Haeron, Rhaenys, and Daenerys once more. “That is what I want you to be able to do. If you are to fight in a war, you all need to possess no weaknesses in your swordplay. I don’t care if you have dragons. You won’t always be on them and if the time ever comes when you need to protect yourself, I want to know that you can.”

The three nod. “That is enough swordplay for today. We will resume our lessons tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Ser Arthur,” Haeron responds, his respect for his mentor knowing no bounds.

Arthur smiles softly at his pupils, “You are almost at my level, Your Grace. When you reach it, I will continue to aid you but it will be up to you to build on your capabilities. Once you are at my level, I suggest the three of you begin to find ways to incorporate your magic into your swordplay. I don’t understand how that works, nor can I do any of it, so it will be entirely up to you three to develop ways to use it safely.”

Haeron nods. The three young Targaryens walk away from the training ground, placing their swords on a metal rack as they go. They walk towards the Dragon’s Liar, coming to the blackened turf a few minutes later. Bones and the charred remains of different animals cover the ground.

Rhaegon instantly rises from his slumber, his massive form rushing towards them. Rhaenys laughs at her dragon’s antics, placing a hand on his maw. A rumble leaves the dragon’s mouth, a sound the three long since learned to be one of happiness.

Baleria walks up a moment later, her red scales glittering like fire in the light of the Essos sun. Unlike Rhaegon, Baleria remains where she lays, bringing her head up to look directly at the three of them. She shuffles slightly, revealing the three eggs pressed against her underbelly.

Daenerys smiles, walking over to her dragon. Baleria’s size had increased dramatically over the last year, more so than that of Rhaegon or Saegar. Her size now rivals Saegar, perhaps even surpassing him.

Saegar, meanwhile, has also changed. His black scales became darker, his golden scales becoming harder to see. They are now only visible when light shines directly onto them. His claws became longer, sharper. As Haeron approaches his dragon’s sleeping form, he can see pieces of rotting meat and blood caking the talons. The smell emanating from the three dragons is terrible. The smell of blood combined with that of scorched bones and rotting meat.

Haeron points a hand at his dragon’s claws, muttering, “ _Scourgify._ ”

His dragon stirs at the use of the spell, raising his massive head to look at him. His eyes stare directly into Haeron’s own, neither of them blinking. Haeron continues to walk closer until he stands just before the dragon. His dragon rises up, his wings creating a wall that darkens the ground around Haeron. The dragon’s massive form blocks out the sunlight from reaching Haeron as he continues to look at his dragon.

After another moment, Haeron breaks into a smile. The dragon mimics the movement, his gums pulling back to reveal row after row of razor-sharp teeth. Haeron laughs and a moment later, his dragon lowers himself to the ground, placing one wing further down for him to climb up.

He agilely climbs up his dragon’s wing, nestling himself into a small space on Saegar’s neck where there are no spikes. He slips is hands around two spikes in front of him, holding on tight.

A moment later, Saegar beats his wings, creating a storm of ash and dust. The sound of his wingbeats cause Haeron’s ears to throb, but it is a feeling he is used to. Saegar lets out a roar, the sound echoing over the Targaryen Manse and beyond.

After a few more powerful beats of his wings, Saegar floats hundreds of feet off the ground. The air pressure changes, causing Haeron’s ears to pop slightly. Haeron allows his mind to become blank, his thoughts slowing down as he allows himself to relax.

The feeling of the cool air high up in the sky is like no other, creating a feeling of complete and utter freedom. The power surging beneath Saegar’s scales begs to be released, making Haeron’s mind turn to his coming battles. He knows that war is never easy and that he will lose people.

However, he knows that he would kill thousands of people if it meant keeping those he cares for out of harm's way. He knows that Daenerys and Rhaenys will be in the middle of the conflict, that being one of the reasons he has begun to teach them every spell he knows. He wants them to be able to defend themselves against any situation.

After a lot of arguing, he had convinced Rhaenys to learn to apparate. She had been extremely hesitant for a while, but after their journey to the wall, she had realized just how useful of an ability apparition could be. Daenerys had also eagerly learned the skill, never having been as hesitant to learn it as Rhaenys was. Witnessing the death of Aemon and changed all three of them, making them more focused than ever on their training and planning.

If their bond with the dragons had changed their attitudes towards violence and death, Aemon’s death had changed their motivation.

They had spent a few days trying to get the eggs to hatch, but they had not. Daenerys’ dragon Baleria had quickly taken the eggs and had become a mother of sorts to them. She protected them fiercely, sensing the importance the eggs carried with her rider.

Haeron is drawn out of his thoughts when Rhaegon lets out a screech, coming up to glide next to Saegar. Rhaenys looks at her brother, “Are you okay, Hae?” She yells over the wind.

Haeron nods, “I’m fine.” He yells back.

Rhaenys nods and Rhaegon floats down a bit. Saegar continues to rise, soon coming to the clouds in the sky. Haeron feels drops of water vapor land on his skin as they slowly enter the cloud. The water hisses when it touches Saegar’s scales, turning to steam against the heat of his body.

Haeron smiles at his dragon, beginning to wonder just how much damage Saegar will be capable of in battle. At his current growth, by the time they reach Westeros, his dragon will be larger than any ship in the Iron Fleet by many times. The dragon lets out a huff, seemingly sensing Haeron’s train of thought.

Haeron laughs, running a hand down the side of Saegar’s neck. “I know. You will get your chance soon, Saegar. Soon.”

The dragon huffs again, flapping his wings a few more times. They appear on the other side of the clouds, Saegar’s wings creating a divot in the clouds beneath them. The sun overhead is just beginning to set, sending a pinkish glow onto the clouds around them. Haeron can’t help but admire the beauty of it all. It far outranges anything he ever saw as Harry Potter, even his first glimpse of Hogwarts.

Soon, Baleria and Rhaegon burst through the clouds too, both roaring. Saegar roars back, the sound echoing across the sky like a crack of thunder.

The three dragons fly closer, flying side by side. Baleria takes the middle position with Saegar on her left and Rhaegon on her right. The wingbeats from the dragons slow as they begin to glide down. They come to the clouds, the cool water vapor gently landing on his skin.

By the time he exits the clouds, his body glimmers softly as the water droplets reflect the light from the sun. He looks to his right, smiling at Daenerys. Her silver hair glows platinum in the light of the setting sun, the water droplets only giving it more of a glow. Her pale skin shines under the rays of light, her purple eyes shining with happiness.

He look past Daenerys and Baleria, his eyes settling on Rhaenys. Like Daenerys, her dark-brown hair gleams in the light of the setting sun. Her charcoal-black eyes glow, an unusual sight from her usually dark eyes. Her darker skin gains an almost ethereal glow from the sunlight.

After a while longer, the sky begins to darken. Haeron guides Saegar back towards the manse, eyes scanning the ground as they fly high over it. For miles, all it is is desert. After a few moments of this, Haeron lifts his eyes from the ground. He turns his attention to the manse as it comes into view.

The three dragons land back on the blackened Earth, the three Targaryens climbing down. Haeron lands on the ground with a thud, his boots sinking into the scorched Earth a little bit. He rises to his full height, his muscles rippling as he does so.

His own silver hair appears silver in the light of the moon overhead. Stars glimmer all around it, the clouds having moved on further down the sky.

Haeron looks up, his eyes sweeping across the now-empty dark sky. His eyes fall upon the moon, drawing him unbidden into memories of the night Remus Lupin shifted into a Werewolf. He remembers the fear he felt as he and Hermione had desperately run for their lives while trying to save their past selves. He remembers… _Sirius…_

He shakes himself, knowing that looking back to the past will lead him to his own doom. He needs to focus on the future.

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Essos. Time: One Year Later(2 YBS)._ **

**——Rhaenys Targaryen POV——**

Rhaenys’ eyes Ser Jamie carefully as he raises his sword, preparing herself to evade the strike. His eyes find her’s and she smirks.

Jamie swings the sword in an aggressive horizontal strike. Rhaenys parries it expertly in front of her head, holding her own sword at a forty-five-degree angle.

Her eyes narrow when Ser Jamie allows her to push his sword back, before launching a precise strike towards his chest. She expects to hear the familiar _clink_ of the sword hitting his chest armor but doesn’t. Instead, she finds him to her right, sword whistling past her chin as she slides under it.

She rises back to her full height, coming to a few inches taller than Ser Jamie. The man notices this and grips his blade even tighter, his knuckles turning white. A moment later, he begins to pass his blade from his left hand to his right, watching her.

Rhaenys narrows her eyes and in a brief display of her inhuman speed, she darts forwards and catches his sword in-between his two hands. His eyes widen in disbelief before narrowing, “Was that magic, Princess?”

Rhaenys smirks, “No, Ser Jamie. That was my un-enhanced speed.”

He shakes his head, “There is nothing I can do if that is true. No swordsman will stand a chance with speed like that. Congratulations, Princess. I cannot teach you anymore.”

Rhaenys sighs, “Well, there may not be anything you can do, but Ser Arthur still holds his own against me.”

Jamie’s lips curl upwards at the words, “Well, he is the Sword of the Morning, Princess. No one has ever compared him to a normal swordsman.”

Rhaenys sighs, being interrupted by Daenerys’ voice, “Well done, Rhae. That was beautifully executed.”

Rhaenys smiles, “Thanks.”

Haeron appears behind her with a brief pop, causing her to jump. Haeron laughs, shaking his head, “A year, and you still aren’t used to me apparating around you…”

She glares at him. He holds up his hands in surrender. Jamie interrupts their banter, “Forgive me for the interruption but Ser Arthur is here to spectate you all fight each other _with_ magical enhancements.”

The three smirk at the words, smiling at the man. Haeron and Daenerys both walk over to the weapon rack, selecting their usual swords. They walk back to the middle of the training ground, their eyes falling upon Ser Arthur as he approaches. When he stands before them, he says, “This is where I want to see what you are capable of using your… _unique_ abilities to add to your skill. This will also prove as a test to your capabilities to fight more than one extremely skilled fighters at once. Ser Jamie and I have trained you in that somewhat, but using your powers should make you much better. Do not cause any harm to one another, but anything else is in play.”

He takes a few steps back, “You may begin.”

The three Targaryens smile at one another, taking a few steps away from each other. The three all get into their ready positions, awaiting someone to make the first move.

After a moment's hesitation, Rhaenys leaps forwards, covering a lot of ground with each stride. Daenerys rushes towards her with Haeron waiting back a moment, looking for an opening.

Rhaenys begins to feed magical energy into her muscles and mind, allowing her to calculate and react much quicker than would normally be possible. Daenerys does the same, causing their strikes to become stronger and faster. Their blows chip pieces of metal off of their swords, sending shards of metal into the air.

Daenerys lands a brutal overhead strike on Rhaenys’ sword, sending a shower of sparks down on Rhaenys.

A moment later, Rhaenys leaps up, spinning to parry an incoming blow from Haeron’s blade. His blow brings with it his insurmountable strength, forcing her to a knee while creating a large shower of metal shards. Rhaenys realizes that her sword won’t hold up under much more blows like that and she quickly begins to dodge rather than parry the blows that come her way.

Haeron dances past her, his sword becoming a blur as it sings through the air to collide with Daenerys’ blade. The blow sends Daenerys back a few feet, her silver hair fluttering in the wind.

Rhaenys leaps back into the fight, her blows becoming more and more powerful as her magic feeds her strength. The same is true for Daenerys and Haeron, however, evening the odds. Rhaenys relies on her gracefulness to avoid Haeron’s strikes, Daenerys on her speed. Haeron’s all-around skill and strength is unfair for the two girls but Rhaenys’ older age gives her a slight edge in actual fight IQ.

However, she finally makes a mistake. Haeron lands a blow on Daenerys’ sword, creating an opening for Rhaenys to attack. She sends a blow at Daenerys, not expecting Haeron to deflect it for his aunt. He does it for his own gain, however, as he lands a powerful punch to her midsection, forcing her to her knees.

She looks up in time to see Haeron’s sword heading for her head, forcing her to raise her sword. His sword slams into her own, a loud ring echoing from the blow. She watches as her sword falls into two pieces, leaving her unarmed. Haeron’s blow continues downwards, directly for her head. It bounces off of the wards the three always wear during swordplay, knowing that they cannot risk any injury.

Rhaenys raises a hand, sighing in annoyance as she holds up the half of her sword. Haeron smiles victoriously down at her, but his gloating is stopped when he has to spin around to deflect a blow from Daenerys.

Rhaenys shakes her head, knowing that her aunt stands nearly no chance at beating her brother. She stands up, watching from the sidelines as Haeron and Daenerys dance in a beautiful performance of skill and precision. Daenerys seems to have learned from Rhaenys’ mistake as she avoids the blows from Haeron’s sword entirely. Her aunt's speed is impressive as she dances around Haeron, sending blow after blow onto him.

A few more minutes pass until Ser Arthur claps his hands. Haeron and Daenerys both come to a stop, panting for breath. “That was amazing, you three!” He exclaims. “I don’t know of anyone who will be able to beat you three when you do that!”

Rhaenys walks back over to Daenerys and Haeron, elbowing Haeron’s shoulder. He fakes a gasp of pain but his smirk remains as he looks at her. “That is not fair,” Rhaenys complains. “My sword broke.”

Arthur chuckles, “I don’t believe you will have to deal with that in your coming conquest. It would take strength near that of His Grace here, to break your sword. However, another way to deal with this problem would be getting the three of you Valyrian Steel blades.”

Rhaenys’ eyes widen, “Are there even that many more Valyrian swords that do not belong to other families?”

Arthur sighs, stroking his beard in thought. “There might be. I fear that the swords of your house have long since been lost, but maybe we can find a way to get you more.”

He holds up _Dawn._ “This sword has been in House Dayne for centuries. I am not going to relinquish it to you, but I will allow you to attempt to discover the way to make swords like this again.”

Haeron sighs, “There is no use. It will take the formula for Valyrian Steel to even get started, something that we don’t have.”

Arthur nods, “True. Are there any spells you can cast on your swords? Ones like the ones you have on your bodies?”

Haeron shakes his head, “The wards on our swords rely on the fact that we do not _intend_ to harm one another. That is not the case for the metal we wield.”

Jamie steps forward, “Your Grace, are you saying that you won’t be able to create wards like that to use in battle?”

Haeron sighs, “I am afraid so. To use wards such as those against attackers trying to kill us would drain our energy far too quickly. We cannot risk magical exhaustion unless we have no other choice.”

Arthur interjects, “Well, we will have to search for other ways to get you three Valyrian Steel swords. For now, back to training. Tonight is your endurance training. I want you three to run ten laps around these premises and then return to me. You can go once you finish.”

The three immediately set off, groaning when they hear Ser Arthur call, “And no magic!”

When they finally finish their tenth lap, Rhaenys places her hands on the back of her head, standing up as tall as she can to let her lungs intake more air. Her legs and thighs burn from the run, sweat dripping down her light-brown skin. Ser Arthur walks over to them, “Well done, you three. Dismissed until Monday. Tomorrow is your day off.”

The three sigh in relief as they remember that, eagerly looking forward to their off day.

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Essos. Time: One Year Later(1 YBS)._ **

**——Daenerys Targaryen POV——**

Daenerys grins as she watches the red light fly from her palm, impacting with a strong shield spell from her nephew. “Well done, Daenerys. That is how you cast the _Disarm Spell_.” Haeron walks over to her, a grin on his face.

“Now, I want all three of us to try something,” Haeron says, gesturing for Rhaenys to join them. The tall Dornish girl walks over to them, coming to a stop at Daenerys’ side.

“You have both mastered nearly all the magic I can teach you. However, it is time we begin to work on darker spells. _Dumbledore_ did not teach me but as a gift from Fate, I now know many of the incantations to cast them.” Haeron announces, causing Daenerys to nod slowly.

These darker spells are not to be used carelessly.” Haeron continues. “These spells are to be used only in absolute emergencies as they can cause immense pain or even murder someone.”

A shiver runs down Daenerys’ spine at those words. “The first spell we are all going to work on his that of…” He pauses, wiggling his fingers dramatically. “ _…Cursed Fire…_ ”

Daenerys’ eyebrows rise at those words, her whole body tensing in anticipation. “This spell is ridiculously hard to cast and control, though I think our Targaryen blood should give us better control over it. The incantation is _Fiendfyre._ That is all I know as I have never attempted to cast this spell either.”

“For us to attempt these darker spells, we all three are going to have to build up some sort of malicious feelings as spells like this are fueled by negative emotions. If we are unable to cast these spells for now, that is fine. I am sure that as the war goes on, we will have more reasons to cast such spells. In fact, I highly doubt any of the three of us will be able to cast any of the darker spells.” Haeron continues.

“For us to cast these spells, we have to remain alert. We will attempt them one at a time. Daenerys, you start.” Haeron finishes.

Daenerys walks a few yards away, facing away from her niece and nephew. She closes her eyes, attempting to search for any dark and malicious thoughts within her. After a few moments of searching, she attempts the spell, yelling, “ _Fiendfyre!”_

Nothing happens and she turns back to Haeron and Rhaenys. She watches as they both try, nothing happening for either of them either. “I expected as much,” Haeron says with a sigh. “Though I suppose we could take this as a positive. That means we haven’t yet experienced anything that makes us capable of such feelings of hatred.”

Rhaenys asks softly, “I am surprised that my hatred for the Usurper and his dogs wasn’t enough. It felt like it was.”

Haeron nods, “Yeah, I agree. Our thoughts of him are more through what we have been told than what we have experienced. It is possible that our hatred needs to come from direct experiences.”

Silence falls over the three for a few moments after Haeron’s words before he breaks it.

“Dany, why don’t you apparate us back to our chambers?” Haeron says.

Daenerys nods and grabs Haeron’s hand in her left and Rhaenys’ in her right. She closes her eyes in brief concentration, and a moment later the three vanish. They reappear with a pop in the room with the bath, startling three girls who are busy filling their bath with hot water.

They all three bow to the three Targaryens, quickly exiting the room and closing the door behind them. The three strip off their clothes for the day, not even bothering to select new ones to change into. They step into the water, each letting out sighs of pleasure at the feeling of the water.

As usual, Haeron puts a tiny bit of magic into heating up the water further, causing steam to rise from it.

The water brushes up against Daenerys’ pale skin, causing her to let out a low moan. As has become normal, Haeron soon sits behind Daenerys, his fingers running through her hair. His actions are gentle, soothing. _Loving._

Rhaenys does his at the same time, her long fingers brushing against his neck from time to time.

Once Haeron finishes with Daenerys’ hair, he leans down. His lips come into contact with the vulnerable skin of her neck, causing a shiver to shake her body.

Haeron does not kiss any further as Rhaenys has finished his hair. Daenerys swims quickly over to sit behind her niece, admiring her silky brown hair as she has done hundreds of times.

She cleans her hair, cleansing it of all dust and grime. The three swim to their separate parts of the bath, Daenerys closing her eyes to enjoy the peace. She can hear the sound of the curtains on the windows ruffling in a warm breeze. A smile graces her pink lips at the calm peace exuding from their chambers.

However, as the water begins to cool, Daenerys opens her eyes. She rises from the water, stepping out of the water and onto the stone surrounding it. Her feet slide a little bit with each step and she can feel two pairs of eyes tracking her every movement.

She grins, walking over to the wardrobe in one corner of the room. She grabs a towel from a stack on one side of the wardrobe, running it across her body. She dries her hair first, stopping the water dripping from her silver strands. She wraps the towel around her shoulders and moves it back and forth, drying her back. Daenerys brings the towel to her front and runs it across her breasts and through the small gap between them.

She brings it lower, drying her stomach and brushing against the top of her groin. She lets out a soft sigh at the contact, a tingle traveling through her body. She hears a sharp intake of breath from the bath, causing a beautiful laugh to leave her lips. She places the towel into her right hand, bringing her left hand behind her and pulling it between her legs. The soft material brushes against her core lightly once more before Daenerys pulls it taught.

She moves her arms back and forth, drying her core and backside. She moves lower, drying her inner thighs and then the rest of her legs.

She places the towel in a brown basket next to the wardrobe, pulling out a thin, pink robe and putting it on. The robe is nearly see-through, leaving next to nothing to the imagination. Her pale skin is visible through the robe, as are her feminine parts. Her nipples are pert in the warm breeze as it buffets her skin, blowing her robe in the breeze.

She hears water cascade behind her and turns to watch Haeron and Rhaenys climb out of the bath. She grins as she eyes both of them, drinking in their every curve and scar. The two walk past her, selecting their own robes from the wardrobe. They both dry themselves quickly, not taking the time Daenerys did as she teased them.

She watches them both get dresses, her eyes not leaving either of them. She eyes her nephew’s chest before falling a little lower. She grins slyly when she sees his body has reacted to the display she put on. Her violet orbs begin to fill with lust as she takes in the image of her two lovers as they get dressed.

Rhaenys wears a dark purple dress that she leaves split down the middle, not tying it closed. The middle of her chest is visible, curved and lean with muscle. Haeron selects a thin grey shirt and some black small clothes.

Once the three are all dressed, they walk into their chambers. Haeron is the last one through, closing it and muttering locking and silencing spells on it once more.

Moonlight floods through the open window on the wall opposite the door and Haeron mutters silencing charms towards it, too.

Daenerys grins again, knowing the reason for the charms. She walks over to the bed, sitting on one side of it and looking out the window. A cool breeze blows into the room, the sun having vanished behind the horizon. She plays with the metal band on the front of her pink robe, running the material between her fingers.

The three are silent for a few moments longer before they cannot help themselves anymore. Daenerys finds herself on her back with Rhaenys over her, lips pressing eagerly against her own. A moan of pleasure leaves her mouth at the dominant actions of her older niece, wrapping her arms around Rhaenys’ neck. “Take it off…” Rhaenys hisses into her ear after pulling back briefly.

Daenerys quickly releases the ties holding her robe on, revealing her full form. The moonlight glimmers against some of her exposed skin but Rhaenys’ form blocks most of it. Her eyes dart around the room in search of Haeron, finding him sitting on the other side of the bed. His eyes are dark with lust as he watches the two of them, his hand beginning to raise his shirt over his head.

Her attention is drawn back to Rhaenys as her niece places a kiss on her exposed left breast, just above her bud. A gasp leaves her mouth, her body writhing of its own accord.

Rhaenys moves her lips a tiny bit lower, grazing the pink skin of Daenerys’ nipple. A moment later, Rhaenys’ tongue darts out to touch her nipple.

A moan of pleasure leaves Daenerys’ mouth, her head falling back onto the bed. Rhaenys’ lips soon close around her left nipple, her tongue swirling it in her mouth.

Daenerys continues to writhe around on the bed, her eyes closed from the force of the pleasure her niece is inflicting on her.

She feels Rhaenys’ lips move to her right breast a moment later, causing her to moan again. She feels herself beginning to get wet, her core crushing against Rhaenys’ still-covered center. Daenerys’ hands quickly wrap around the two edges of her niece's robe and throwing it to the side.

She opens her eyes and looks up. Her niece hangs above her for a moment, her dark lips poised to continue their trail of pleasure. Daenerys reaches up, pulling Rhaenys’ lips back to her own, one of her legs coming up to brush along Rhaenys’ core. She feels wetness on her leg and smiles into the kiss, enjoying the idea of her niece getting wet off of pleasuring _her._

Rhaenys moans, allowing Daenerys’ tongue to dart into her mouth. The kiss is different than the first ones they shared, more precise. Sharpened with experience. Daenerys begins to rub her leg against Rhaenys’ core, causing Rhaenys to break the kiss due to the pleasure.

Daenerys takes the opportunity to flip Rhaenys over, switching places with her. She catches a brief glimpse of Haeron on the bed in front of them, his eyes watching their every movement. She is able to tell that his clothes are gone, his hands pleasuring himself to the sight of his sister and aunt making out with one another.

Her attention turns back to Rhaenys, bringing her legs up to straddle her nieces middle. Her core presses against Rhaenys’ stomach, sliding down a few inches as she leans down. She begins to return the favor, pressing kiss after kiss to her niece’s breasts.

Her left-hand falls lower, brushing against the small amount of pubic hair on Rhaenys’ cunt. She feels just how wet the Dornish woman is, smiling as she continues her work. Her hand moves around between Rhaenys’ legs, causing the woman to whimper.

Daenerys closes her thumb and forefinger around the nub above her niece’s cunt, pinching it briefly. Rhaenys’ body spasms slightly, more liquid leaving her lower lips.

Daenerys’ fingers continue their job while Daenerys’ lips begin to kiss back up Rhaenys’ body. She gently bites down on Rhaenys’ pulse before soothing it with her tongue.

Her fingers soon find Rhaenys’ cunt, slipping briefly inside her. A groan leaves Rhaenys’ lips again, her body thrashing.

Daenerys purposefully slips her pinky-finger a few inches into Rhaenys’ lips, pulling it out after a brief moment. She pauses her actions, watching as Rhaenys’ eyes open. Her black eyes are dull with pleasure, watching as Daenerys brings her pinky up to her mouth and licks it clean.

A growl sounds in front of her as Haeron grabs her finger and forces it into his own mouth. He licks it thoroughly, getting a few drops of Rhaenys’ liquid and some of Daenerys’ saliva.

Daenerys pulls her hand back bringing it back between Rhaenys’ legs. This time, she is not gentle. She slips her middle-finger as far as it can go into Rhaenys’ warmth. A cry leaves Rhaenys’ lips, causing Daenerys to begin to move her finger in and out.

It doesn’t take long for Rhaenys to reach her climax, a cry leaving her lips as she peaks.

Rhaenys collapses to the bed, her breaths leaving her mouth in pants. Daenerys pulls her finger out of her and crawls off of her. Before she can react, Haeron is on top of her. She can tell he has been watching them closely as his hand goes instantly to her core.

He seals their lips together, biting down gently. Daenerys moves her body up to meet his, their chests brushing together. The action causes Haeron’s hardened manhood to brush against her folds, placing a little of his liquid onto the pubic hair on her groin.

Daenerys pulls back briefly, muttering an anti-pregnancy spell. Haeron quickly claims her lips again, beginning to move his hips against her. His manhood presses against her lower lips with each movement, both of them releasing slight sounds with each movement.

As his movements increase in speed, his manhood slips just past her entrance, penetrating her for the first time. He pulls back briefly, looking down at her, “Are you sure, Dany?”

She glares at him, “Does it seem like I am against this? No. I have never been more sure of anything.” She says, not even caring at how cheesy she sounds.

Haeron smiles at her words, his movements slowing a bit. Daenerys reaches down, taking his manhood into her right hand. Slowly, ever so slowly, she guides it to her entrance, lining it up. “I will go slow,” Haeron whispers, pressing a loving kiss to her neck. He slowly lowers his hips, his manhood sliding into her.

“Fuck…” Daenerys whispers, causing Haeron to hesitate. “Keep going.” She orders a moment later.

Haeron slowly continues to lower himself onto her, forcing himself further and further into her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Daenerys chants, hisses leaving her mouth with each centimeter Haeron penetrates.

Finally, Daenerys moves her own hips up, forcing Haeron all the way into her. A groan leaves both of them, a hiss of pain leaving Daenerys’ lips but the pain is far outweighed by the pleasure.

Slowly, she pulls her hips backward, causing him to slide most of the way out of her. Then, she moves her hips back, making him slide back into her.

Haeron begins to move his own hips, his lips pressed against Daenerys’ earlobe as he whispers words of encouragement.

The two make love slowly, taking their time to enjoy their first time together. Their movements become almost lazy, becoming slower and slower. Finally, the two reach their peak, Haeron spilling his seed deep inside of her.

Finally, Haeron places his arms on both sides of her head and rises up to his knees. His manhood falls out of her, a trail of their combined juices to drip out of her cunt.

Haeron moves to lay beside her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. He presses a kiss to her neck again, whispering, “I love you.”

As Haeron begins to close his eyes, Rhaenys decides she is not yet ready for him to sleep. Under her breath, she mutters her own anti-pregnancy spell before placing her left leg over Haeron’s middle. She mounts him, quickly guiding his still-hard manhood into her. Haeron’s eyes fly open as she watches her ride him. Her breasts bounce with each movement, causing Daenerys’ eyes to watch her as well.

The sound of wet skin slapping together fills the room, making all three glad for the silencing charms in place. Moans leave Rhaenys’ lips as she rides her brother’s manhood even faster, the sound of wet skin slapping together becoming louder.

Haeron’s breaths become short as he nears his second climax in the last few minutes. A particularly loud moan leaves Rhaenys’ lips and her movements begin to slow. She slowly rises into a crouching position, Haeron’s manhood falling out of her. Juices drip out of her cunt onto the bed, creating another wet spot on the sheets. Rhaenys moves to rest on Haeron’s other side, resting her messy black hair on his muscular, sweaty chest.

The room smells of sex, a strong, pungent, but not overly unpleasant smell. Haeron cancels the locking and silencing charms, all three moving to get under the sheets as a cold breeze enters the room.

The three Targaryens feel the bond between them strengthen, creating ties of _fire and blood_ between them. Haeron places one arm around Rhaenys’ shoulders and replaces his other arm around Daenerys’. The thee sigh contentedly at the feeling of their bodies pressed together.

“Well, we need to get up and clean ourselves early tomorrow before training,” Rhaenys says, only half-jokingly.

Haeron laughs, Daenerys joining him. “That is for sure.”

Silence falls over them once more, a comfortable, warm silence. The three know that their peaceful times together are soon coming to an end. They know that soon, they will be unable to share peaceful moments centered around themselves. They know that soon, they will begin their war to take back what is theirs. They know that soon they will have to each take hundreds of lives and risk their own. However, in this moment of calm and serenity, they cannot bring themselves to care. They feel safe with the knowledge that they will have each other to guide them through the coming conflicts. To ease each other’s worries and protect each other’s backs.

And once more, the words not needing to be said as they drift off into peaceful sleep. _A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing…_

**_Location: King’s Landing. Time: Six Months Later(1/2 YBS)._ **

**——Jon Arryn POV——**

Jon Arryn walks through the halls of the Red Keep, confident in his decision to investigate the king’s children. His suspicions have existed for a while, born when Lord Baelish mentioned finding the Queen as she left a room far from the King’s Chambers.

Jon doesn’t blame the Queen for seeking someone else, his former protégé having fallen far from the decent man he once was. Added to that fact, none of Robert’s supposed children bore any of the traditional Baratheon looks, an incredibly unusual fact when it comes to his family. The Baratheon’s were always known for their strong, distinct features.

However, the King’s apparent children bear no resemblance to the Baratheon bloodline, all of them having striking Lannister features. Jon had tried to see if he could make out another bloodline in their blood but all he could find was the Lannister features.

Sleeping with someone besides the King is one thing, but the idea that Queen Cersei turned to incest to keep her children from being Robert’s was one that he did not want to think about. The idea that Queen Cersei would sleep with someone within her own family was truly horrid, especially given the fact that the crown was a believer in the Faith of the Seven. The Faith strongly detests incest, seeing it as a crime against the Seven.

If they found out that the Queen might have committed incest while also committing wedlock would likely lead to the execution of the Queen and all of her children.

“ _I pray if Robert ever finds out that his children may not be his, that he doesn’t take out his anger on his children. They are not responsible for the actions of their mother. Well, Joffrey might deserve a little punishment. That boy is as vile a sixteen-year-old as I have ever seen. However, Myrcella and Tommen are good kids._ ”

Jon Arryn is dragged from his thoughts when he arrives at Maester Pycelle’s door. He knocks once, awaiting a response. For a moment, there is only silence. However, a moment later, the door opens. The girls scantly clothed dart out, somewhat relieved smiles on their faces as they pass him. Each girl clutching a few Silver Stags in their open palms. “Ah, Lord Hand, forgive me. Come. Enter.” The Maester says.

Jon grimaces as he finds the Maester, barely dressed. Only a brown robe hiding his wrinkled skin from view. He enters the chambers, following the Maester to a wooden desk. Different small objects sit on the desk, including a few papers.

“How can I help you, Lord Hand?” The Maester asks in his traditional manner.

“I am searching for a book and was told you have it in your possession,” Jon replies, trying to keep his disdain for the man out of his voice.

“Of course, Lord Hand. If I have it, I will let you read it.”

“I am searching for _The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms._ ”

The Maester quickly nods, standing up from his chair and walking to a wooden shelf behind him. He picks up a massive book, carrying it over and setting it on the desk in front of Jon. “Here it is, Lord Hand. Is there anything in particular you are searching for?”

Jon shakes his head, “No, Grand Maester. I will return this when I am through with it.”

The Maester nods, “Be my guest, Lord Hand.”

Jon picks up the book, placing it under one arm. He walks out the door, heading for the throne room. When he arrives, he sees Robert sitting on the throne room, a goblet in one hand. Jon walks to the king and says, “Your Grace, I am requesting leave to visit my wife and son at the Eyrie. I will return within two months.”

Robert hesitates for a brief moment before nodding his approval, “Go, Jon. Be with your family.” His words are slurred, leaving Jon to frown.

Jon walks away from the throne, willing himself not to look behind him.

He exits the throne room and makes his way directly to the courtyard where a horse awaits him. Four of his men soon join him, two of them holding the banners of House Arryn. “Are you ready to depart, my lord?”

Jon nods, “Yes, it is time I return to the Eyrie.”

The five men set out, Jon Arryn unaware of the smug smile that appears on a man’s face as he watches the Hand of the King leave.

“ _That throne will be mine!_ ” The man thinks, smiling even wider as he thinks back to the most recent letter he sent to the Eyrie.

**_Location: A Small Home Outside of Starfall, Dorne. Time: Continuation(1/2 YBS)_ **

**——Jon Sand POV——**

Jon runs a hand through his curly black hair, sighing as he looks out over the small lake. His mind travels all over the world but he is stuck in his body. He raises his sword on one shoulder before slamming it into the ground.

The sword sinks a few inches into the ground, allowing Jon to take his hand off of the blade. He stands up from the wooden bench he had been sitting on, walking closer to the water. He looks into the clear liquid, his own reflection staring back at him. He has curly black hair and the beginnings of a beard. His features are sharp and his mother told him he looks much like his father, Ned Stark.

Jon sighs, his gaze looking back up to the horizon. The stars and moon glimmer off of the surface of the water, creating a beautiful sight.

The door to their small home opens and his mother, Ashara Dayne, walks out of the house. She wears a long, flowing black dress that stops just above her ankles. She wears no shoes, her feet gracefully guiding her over to Jon. “How are you today, my son?”

Jon turns to his mother, not bothering to hide his longing. He sighs again, “I am okay, mother. I am just bored of this place.”

Ashara sighs, “I am tired of this place too, Jon. However, until there is no threat of retaliation from the King or from your father’s new wife, we must stay hidden.”

Jon nods, understanding his mother’s reason to keep them hidden. “Can we continue my sword practice in the morning?” He asks.

Ashara smiles, “Of course we can, Jon.”

Silence falls over the two, a cool breeze blowing against the shore of the lake. The water laps against the shore. Jon breaks the silence once more, “Tell me, mother.”

“About what, Jon?” Ashara questions.

“Tell me more about my father. Tell me anything you can,” He responds, his eyes far away.

So Ashara does, telling her son all she can think of. She tells them of how she met Ned Stark. She tells him of the promises she and Ned exchanged. She tells him of the fear she felt when Ned went off to war. She tells him of the heartbreak she felt when she discovered Ned was marrying another over her. She tells him how, even though Ned is married to another, she still loves him.

Jon listens intently, his purple eyes glimmering in the light of the moon.

**O - O - O - O - O**

**A/N.**

**You are probably wondering why this update came only two days after the last one. The answer to that is that I spent four hours writing and editing this chapter so I could get it to you sooner. However, it will be a delay until the first chapter of Phase-One is complete. I do not follow any update schedule and upload chapters as soon as they are ready.**

**And that is a wrap on the Pre-Phase section of this book. I am so excited to get into the more action-packed chapters and scenes, though I have enjoyed the whole writing process of this book since I began it. This is the longest chapter I have ever written from scratch and rightfully so. This chapter deals with four years of action I thought about expanding further on. However, I know you are all here to read about his conquest so I will delay no more.**

**I have to thank you all again. I started out this book having no idea where I wanted to go with it. Through your reviews and extensive research into the world of Ice and Fire, I have begun to create what I hope is an interesting story. I have spent hours on these first eleven chapters, hours that are some of the most well-used time of my life. I feel like this is an accomplishment I can remain proud of for years to come. AND THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING!**

**O - O - O - O - O**

**Explanations:**

**This chapter is written for the sole purpose of leading to the start of the show. It describes the years of hard work the Targaryens put in to prepare for their conflict. It describes the love they feel for one another.**

**The training may have been boring, but it was necessary. I needed to make it seem like Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys DID NOT GET their skill and power without trying. It took them years of hard work to get to the point they are now.**

**I took inspiration for the dragon flight scene on the scene with Hiccup and Astrid in HTTYD. I loved the idea of further highlighting the life they have been living that they know is soon coming to an end...**

**The sex scene is something that was written for the purpose of solidifying the love they feel for one another. Harry Potter is now fully Haeron Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne.**

**The scene at King's Landing will lead to the beginning of the conflict between the Starks and the Lannisters. Jon Arryn is heading back to the Eyrie, completely unaware that his wife has been instructed to poison him.**

**Lord Baelish has begun his plotting, putting the first part of his plan in action. We all know what happens next…**

**The scene with Jon and Ashara is one I added at the last minute, seeing it as a beautiful way to end this part of the story. Yes, Jon's eyes are purple. His appearance is the same as it is in GoT, except for the purple eyes. I don't care if Lyanna and Rhaegar aren't his parents, he got the Stark look.**

**Please let me know what you have thought of this story so far. Any comments are welcome but please realize that I HAVE NEVER READ THE BOOKS. Any material based on that in my story is from research I have done online.**

**The next chapter may take a little while to get out as I want to make sure I begin the next part in the way that will best fit this story.**

**O - O - O - O - O**

**Ages of Targaryen Trio heading into Phase-One:**

**Rhaenys Targaryen - 21.**

**Haeron Targaryen - 17.**

**Daenerys Targaryen - 17.**

**Word Count: 9,438**


	12. Chapter Twelve(Phase-One)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M.

 **Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter.

**Chapter Twelve(And So it Begins…)**

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Essos. Time: Six Months Later(AS SHOW BEGINS)._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

The strain of training nearly without relent for nearly a year has taken its toll on Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys. The majority of the training they had done was designed to increase their mental and physical stamina to prepare them for war. Ser Gerold had been convinced by the three to teach them military strategy, though there wasn’t too much he could teach them.

For their conquest, they would have three nearly-unstoppable bringers of death. ˇhe dragons will give them an advantage in any fight they choose to partake in, but both Lyanna and Rhaella have tried to talk them out of fully utilizing the true destructive capabilities of the dragons. They fear for the sanity of the king and his aunt and sister. The three spend their free time nearly exclusively in the air, training relentlessly with their respective mounts.

Saegar had quickly proven to possess the most destructive fire; terrifying black flames with gold shot through it. The flame is the only thing Haeron can recall at all burning his skin in this new life. The flames do not actually cause him any harm, but unlike most fire, it feels extremely hot against his skin. Saegar’s flame is unrivaled amongst the dragons, but it is Rhaegon that had proven to be capable of the best aerial maneuvers. His smaller size allows him to maneuver far more easily than Baleria and Saeger. What the smaller purple dragon lacks for in size, he makes up for in speed.

However, to say that any of the dragons are small would be a gross exaggeration. All three are now massive in size, with Baleria remaining slightly ahead of Saegar. Haeron had compared Baleria’s wingspan to that of the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts. The massive red and black dragon had become nearly impossible to miss, causing the Targaryens to have to be far more careful where they fly.

Daenerys had suggested that they only fly at night and since that day, that is what they do. The wingbeats from the dragons sound like claps of thunder from the ground beneath them as they take off. Their roars akin to earth-shaking explosions.

Ser Jamie had begun to teach the three all he could about the Westerosi houses, starting with House Baratheon and all he knew. Haeron remembers vividly the obvious disgust Ser Jamie holds for House Baratheon as he had discussed Robert Baratheon. He had made it clear what he thought of the man, obviously looking to stamp out any doubts about his loyalty.

Ser Jorah offered to teach them about the North to give them a better picture of the kingdom overseen by Haeron’s uncle. Haeron imagined the climate of the North to be similar to that of Hogwarts during the winter, perhaps even colder. He could picturesnowdrifts on the ground, turning the land an icy white. Their brief visit to The Wall had seemed to indicate just how cold it was as none of the three are eager to return to that cold of a climate. Bonding with the dragons gave them a natural desire to stay in warmer climates, among making other changes.

Jon Connington spoke to the three about Rhaegar, having been close with the Silver Prince. His words only served to further motivate the three.

Ser Arthur taught them about the Dornish and how he felt would be the best way to approach them in search of an alliance. He taught them all of the major cities of Dorne and about the fighting techniques the Dornish use most commonly. He mentioned that there would most likely be a few groups of people in Dorne who would be strongly opposed to aiding the Targaryens once more, though he made it clear that he was sure they would help once they learned of Rhaenys’ survival. Arthur emphasized the strong desire he was sure the Martell’s would feel to get vengeance for Elia and Aegon’s fates at the hands of the Baratheons and Lannisters.

Ser Gerold taught them about the Hightower’s and, in extension, some about the Tyrells.

Ser Oswell Whent did his best to teach the three young Targaryens as much as he could about the Riverlands, educating them as to the best way to go about combat and who held power.

Rhaella and Lyanna both did their best to teach the three about their ancestors, insistent that the three hear about what happened to their ancient relatives who relied too heavily on the destructive power of dragon-fire. Lyanna did her best to talk to the three about the legends of those who possessed the power to _change skins._ To place their consciousness into the body of other animals.

Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys all quickly realized the purpose of the new lessons and Haeron remembers clearly the ensuing conversation that had broken out between them.

**_—Flashback—_ **

**——Rhaella Targaryen POV——**

Haeron sits on a wooden chair, his back straight in perfect posture. His silver hair hangs around his shoulders, up in his traditional half up/half down look. His purple eyes flicker around the room, landing on his aunt’s own purple eyes. Haeron smiles at Daenerys, causing her to laugh softly. A few moments later, Rhaella enters the room. She walks over to sit across from Rhaenys and Daenerys, sitting next to Haeron. She crosses her arms, looking at all three of them in turn.

“This is not a lesson I want you three to take lightly. I want you to listen to what I have to say and to think carefully as to what caused the downfall of our house. I do not want you three to follow in their footsteps so use my words to serve as reminders,” Rhaella begins, her eyes once more flickering between the three of them.

“Our house has used the power of dragons for centuries, harnessing our dragon’s blood to command the most deadly, destructive force on this Earth. The power of dragons is unrivaled, as Aegon the Conquerer showed in his conquest. However, as the fate of Rhaenys Targaryen showed, dragons are not invulnerable. There are weapons that can cause serious or fatal damage to the dragons, in turn causing terrible injury to the rider.” Rhaella continues.

Haeron nods slowly, “Grandmother, we already know all of this.”

Rhaella holds up her right hand in a ‘stop,’ gesture. “I am still speaking, Haeron. I am just laying out the basics. I want the three of you to listen to what I have to say _without interrupting._ ”

The three nod and Rhaella continues. “However, it is not the welfare of the dragons or of you three we fear when you enter combat. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of any of you three getting injured or worse terrifies me. Lyanna and I fear for the three of you more than you know.”  
“What is your point, mother?” Daenerys asks, her purple eyes glimmering in the slowly setting sun. “We want to get to the dragons as the sun sets. That is the best time we can safely fly.”

Rhaella looks at her daughter sharply, “What did I say, daughter? Do not interrupt me. I want you to hear what I have to say clearly. You will get to your dragons soon enough.”

The atmosphere in the room turns tense as the younger Targaryens look at the former Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. “As I said, Lyanna and I worry for the three of you in combat but we have also seen your training. We know that there is no way any normal fighter can defeat you. No, my greatest worry, one that has haunted me since you three brought dragons back into this world, is the off chance that you…become like my brother.”

Haeron’s eyes narrow dangerously, “You are here to try and prevent us from, what? Going mad? Do you lack any trust in us?”

Rhaella shakes her head, a sigh leaving her lips, “You know that is not the case, Haeron. I do trust you. I just do not want to see you make the same descent into madness as my brother did. He wasn’t always the infamous Mad King. He used to…” She hesitates, taking a deep breath that shakes her body. “He used to be my brother. He used to be my husband. He used to be the man whose side I would choose over anyone else’s. However, the dragon’s blood in his veins proved to be far too much for him to be able to rein in.”

She pauses briefly, “His actions became less and less like those I would expect from my brother until I could hardly even recognize him. The man who Ser Jamie killed was not Aerys Targaryen. He wasn’t. He was twisted beyond recognition by his desire for death and blood. His mind became a raging inferno whose actions were terrible. I do not want the three of you to follow in his footsteps.”

It is Rhaenys who speaks this time, her dark eyes flashing, “We could never become as vile as he did, grandmother. I actually find your fear irrational and hurtful.”

Rhaella sighs, “I feared the three of you would not take my words well. I truly mean the best with what I say. I do not want to hurt you. The main reason I worry for the three of you is the power the dragons will grant you. You will have no need for an army if you decide to unleash the power of your dragons. However, the power the dragons possess taints those who use it. It is true that many of your ancestors successfully controlled their dragons without becoming tainted, but I do not believe they shared as magical a bond with their dragons as you do.”

Haeron sighs, “I cannot deny that you are correct. The bond we share with our dragons is far more magical than any before us. Through the ritual we used to hatch them, and the fact that through the bond we share with each other, we are pretty much each bonded to all three dragons.”

Rhaella nods, smiling at Haeron, “Thank you, grandson. I am glad that you—.”

Haeron cuts her off, “I am not saying I agree with you, grandmother. I don’t agree. You need to trust us. As Rhaenys said, I do not appreciate the idea that you fear you will lose us to madness.”

Rhaella frowns at Haeron, “Grandson, I truly think that the power of your dragons will alter you. Especially once you use it to take lives.”  
“I cannot deny that the dragons have already changed us. I know that you and my mother wish we could have kept the naivety of youth for as long as possible but if we are to conquer entire continents and topple the Usurper from his spot on _our_ throne, we need to have a degree of mercilessness. The battles we fight will not be won by mercy. Dragons know better and so we know better.”

Rhaella gasps at her grandson’s words, raising one hand up to cover her mouth in shock, “You don’t mean that! Come on, Haeron. Killing those you fight against will make you no better than them.”

“No, mother.” Daenerys answers for Haeron. “Haeron is correct. He has fought in a war before. He has fought and died at the hands of the man who killed his parents. Only by cleansing this world of those who would harm House Targaryen can our family live in peace. There will always be those who will not like us, but I will not allow our family to live in fear for the rest of our lives.”

Rhaella’s eyes move to Rhaenys, obviously wondering if her granddaughter shares the same opinions as her grandson and daughter. “I agree with them, grandmother.” Rhaenys begins. “House Baratheon and House Lannister ruthlessly murdered my mother and newborn brother just because of the blood that flowed through their veins. The same can be said about your son, Viserys. The Usurper executed him. Even Rhaegar, Hae and I’s father, was slain by the Usurper, Robert Baratheon. They were killed for passing the same blood that is in our veins. As Daenerys said, I will not rest until we can live in peace. I do not wish to always be looking behind me to make sure I do not receive a knife in the back.”

Rhaella takes a deep breath, looking between the three. “I know that I do not possess the words to change your mind, but I beg you. Never use killing and violence as a first resort. Only turn to that if it is your only alternative. Violence should never be the first option you turn to.”

Haeron cocks his head, “Who do you take us for, grandmother? We are not Dothraki savages. We will not kill, rape, or pillage just for the sake of it. Violence will only be used against those who deserve it. Those who may one day try and send our family to the void, permanently.”

Rhaella nods, “I…I understand, Haeron. I respect that you are prepared to do whatever is necessary to protect our family and I commend you for it. I have no desire to lose anyone else. I…I just worry for you three. You especially, Haeron. You are a combination of the two most powerful bloodlines in the world. You are _Ice and Fire_.”

Haeron nods placing a hand on her shoulder, “We understand, grandmother. However, we will not hesitate to kill those who would harm us.”

Rhaella nods, “I must warn you three, talking about killing and actually ending someone’s life are two drastically different things. I believe you will find it harder to take as many lives as you seem willing to take.”

The three nod, “We shall see.” Is Rhaenys’ answer to her statement. “Do not forget, grandmother. Haeron has already taken a life.”

Rhaella’s eyes widen as she remembers Haeron mentioning killing someone in his previous life in a moment of rage-fueled vengeance. Silence hovers over the room for a moment, before it is interrupted.

A moment later, Daenerys says, “If that is all, mother. The dragons will be awaiting our arrival.”

Rhaella nods, “I am through for today. Do not forget my words here today. I would hate to see you three become the very same as the man you now seek vengeance from.”

The three link hands, walking out of the room and leaving Rhaella to her thoughts. It did not escape Rhaella’s notice at how Haeron emphasized _our_ when speaking about the throne. It causes her to wonder if maybe the three have progressed further into their relationship than she and Lyanna had originally thought.

The three have been close since meeting one-another, but recently, it seems as though they barely even have to verbally communicate. It is as if they instinctively know what the others want to do. Rhaella shakes her head, unable to fully stamp out the worry that still clings to her heart. She rises to her feet, walking out of the room. Ser Gerold awaits her and walks with her to the library.

When she enters the library, she finds Lyanna sitting on the couch, a small book in one hand and a quill in the other. She scribbles notes onto a notebook resting on a table at her side. Rhaella walks over to her, intent on talking to her about what the future king and his aunt and sister had to say.

She settles herself elegantly on the couch, observing as Lyanna concentrates on the book in her hand. After a few moments, she stops, placing the book down on her current page to keep her spot. She places her quill on the notebook at her side and turns to Rhaella. “What were you reading?” Rhaella asks curiously.

Lyanna laughs softly, “A book on the Valyrian language. I don’t like my son being able to have conversations that I cannot understand.”

Rhaella frowns, “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to learn? I could easily have taught you when I taught the three of them.”

Lyanna sighs, “I didn’t want to intrude. At the time, I was still unsure as to my place in all this. I know now I could have asked you.”

Rhaella nods, smiling at her son’s former wife. “I understand why Rhaegar was drawn to you, Lyanna. You live with a passion that not many possess. You may be from the North but you possess a fire of your own within you.”

Lyanna nods, her eyes turning sad. “Thank you, Rhaella. I am glad you be considered a part of this family.”

Rhaella smiles at her for a moment before taking a deep breath, “I talked to the children today.”

Lyanna laughs, causing Rhaella to look at her funny. “Oh, sorry. I was laughing at the fact that we both call them _children_ but Rhaenys is almost twenty-two years old. And my son is eighteen and your daughter will be soon.”

Rhaella cracks a smile at that, “True. To me, they will always be children. I do wish they could have had a more normal childhood. One that wasn’t nearly entirely made up of training.”

Lyanna sighs, “I agree. I hate that my son already fought and died in one war and will soon enter another. Ser Arthur said that the King’s Guard are running out of things to teach them. Soon, they will not need the King’s Guard to be teachers anymore. They will need them for war.”

Rhaella nods, “Speaking of which, I discussed my fears that they will follow in my brother’s footsteps to them. They were far from pleased with my fears. They made it clear that they did not appreciate me assuming they were anything like Aerys was. I tried to explain that my brother wasn’t always the man who murdered Rickard and Brandon Stark. The boy I grew up with would never have been capable of such horrific actions.”

Lyanna stands up, walking over to sit at her side. She places a comforting hand on Rhaella’s shoulder, willing her to continue. “The three of them made it very clear that they will not shy away from violence and killing. Haeron even said, and I quote, ‘The battles we fight will not be won by mercy. Dragons know better and so we know better.’”

Lyanna looks startled at that, “Haeron said that?” Lyanna asks surprised.

Rhaella nods slowly, “Yes, and the other two agreed with him. All three of them may prove to be more willing to turn to violence than we anticipated. I fear for them, Lyanna. They claim that because of their magic, they are all bonded to all three dragons. I do not like the idea that they have to deal with the bonds of three dragons.”

Lyanna sighs, “I trust my son to make the right decisions. He has a good heart and he is smart, that is what matters the most. I will not blame him for burning those who stand against him. If Rhaegar were here, he would agree. The safety of our family must come first. He may have been against violence for the most part, but family meant everything to him.”

Rhaella sighs, “You are right. I am overthinking this.”

Lyanna shakes her head, “No you aren’t. You are taking your responsibilities as a mother and grandmother seriously. I have the same worries, Rhaella. I have just come to realize that we must trust in them. They are the future of Westeros and we must trust them to make the right decisions.”

Rhaella nods, “You are wise beyond your years, Lyanna. I know where your son gets it from.”

Lyanna laughs lightly again, “Well, I can’t claim all of the credit. My son is in his _second_ life after all.”

Rhaella joins her in laughter, relaxing slightly in her worries.

**_—Flashback End—_ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Saeger’s massive form glides effortlessly, through the cool, evening sky. The sun has just dipped below the horizon, leaving only a trace of orange light over the horizon. The stars and moon glimmer overhead, shedding light onto Haeron’s features as he guides Saegar through the sky.

At his side, perfectly in line with him, Rhaenys and Daenerys fly their own dragons. Baleria lets out a snort, smoke billowing from her nostrils. Haeron laughs at the sight, but the sound is lost in the wind that whistles past him as he guides Saeger into a dive. The dragon’s golden scales glitter like stars in the light of the moon, shimmering as the dragon glides towards the ground.

Saegar lets out a screech, locking in on a large camel as it steps out into the open, unaware that its impending doom is fast approaching. Too late, the camel makes out the massive form of the dragon and tries to flee. Before it gets far, Saeger picks the creature up in one on his scaly talons. The creature lets out alarmed noises as it is carried high into the sky, shrugging in a futile attempt to escape.

Haeron feels a brief flash of pity for the helpless animal as Saegar lands on a small hill of sand, causing the hill to collapse a bit. After one last futile attempt to escape, Saegar slices the camel in half with one razor-sharp talon. The cries stop, causing an eerie silence to reign over the endless sea of desert. The silence is soon broken as Saegar breaths fire onto the two halves of the creature, cooking it to a crisp.

In one bite, the massive dragon swallows one half of the large camel. The sound of bones crunching in his dragon's mouth is slightly unnerving but Haeron us used to it. He watches from Saegar’s back as Saeger eats the other half of the creature a moment later, letting out a loud roar as he finishes. He leans down and blows a small amount of fire on the talons he used to cut the creature in half in an attempt to clean them.

The black dragon launches itself back into the sky a moment later, a splatter of blood and sand that was scorched so badly that it turned to glass, the only sign that they were ever there. Saegar’s wingbeats stir up sand, hiding the massive indent the dragon’s body had created.

Haeron knows that his dragon’s hunger is far from satiated as it has been almost two weeks since their last true hunting flight. With all of their training, hunting with the dragons has become a rarity.

A few moments later, Rhaegon joins Saegar, blood dripping down one side of the dragon’s maw. Haeron sighs and gestures with one hand, clearing the blood off of the dragon’s maw. Rhaenys laughs when she sees his actions, smiling over at him. Haeron pats Saegar’s back, muttering, “Let’s see if we can teach Rhaegon and Rhaenys a lesson, huh?”

Saeger growls loudly, causing Haeron to laugh. A moment later, the massive black dragon begins to beat his wings at a quick pace, speeding up. Wind buffets Haeron’s face, sending his styled silver hair out of its place. It blows out behind him, glimmering in the light of the moon. Haeron grins when he looks back, not seeing Rhaegon closing in on them.

His grin vanishes when he sees Rhaegon far beneath them, _ahead_ of them. Baleria appears at his side, Daenerys’ long silver hair flowing out behind her. Over the last six months, both Rhaenys and Daenerys had allowed their hair to grow, Daenerys’ silver locks falling to her chest. Daenerys gestures with one hand and Haeron slows Saegar down, beginning to glide through the beautiful evening sky.

“Rhaegon is so fast,” Daenerys complains.

Haeron laughs, “Yeah, well, all the dragons have their strong suits.”

Daenerys nods in agreement. The two fall silent as the cool evening breeze buffets their pale skin. The silence is interrupted a moment later by a loud roar from Rhaegon, an unusually aggressive sound.

Daenerys and Haeron share a look before guiding their dragons to speed towards the sound. They fly over a large stone cliff, a gasp leaving Haeron’s throat at what they see.

Below them, thousands of small tents cover the ground, stretching for miles in all directions. Campfires send trails of smoke into the sky, as many figures walk between the tents. Haeron sweeps with his eyes for Rhaegon, his eyes finding the black and purple dragon a moment later.

Rhaenys has landed a couple of miles away from the encampment, obviously trying to get an idea of who the encampment holds.

Daenerys and Haeron land next to Rhaegon, Saegar furling his wings against his side as they do so. “Is that…?” Daenerys hisses.

Rhaenys nods, “Yes, that is the Dothraki. We must have flown further North than we realized. We must have reached the Dothraki Sea.”

“What do we do? Did they hear Rhaegon roar? That was far louder than I have ever heard from the dragons. It echoed through the sky.” Haeron asks.  
Rhaenys shakes her head, “No. I was able to cast a spell in time to deflect the sound away from the ground. That could be one reason his roar sounded so loud to you.”

“Did they see us?” Daenerys questions, her purple eyes sweeping fro any sign of outward aggression from the encampment of Dothraki.

“I don’t think so, though I do not know how they missed us. I am glad we were high enough to rely on gliding. They definitely would have heard wingbeats.” Rhaenys says.

Haeron nods, “It is also a good thing that it is a clear night. The dragons probably blended in pretty well against the dark sky.”

The three fall silent, observing the massive encampment of Dothraki for a few more minutes. “We should probably go. There is no need to risk being seen.” Daenerys says.

Haeron and Rhaenys nod in agreement, turning their dragon North. With a few magically silenced wingbeats, the dragons soar far above the encampment one last time. “We are not ready to take on the Dothraki yet. Besides, we won’t need them until we have enough ships to transport them.” Rhaenys states as they glide back towards the manse.

Haeron nods, “And, I am pretty sure possessing a Khalasar would draw far too much unwanted attention.”

Daenerys and Rhaenys agree, and silence falls over them again, only broken by the occasional wingbeat from the dragons to stay in the sky.

After arriving back at the manse, they climb off their dragons. Haeron lands, his heavy, muscular form causing his landing to break the bones of a ribcage on the scorched earth beneath them.

He grimaces, turning and walking a few steps away from the dragons. Daenerys appears at his right side, lacing her fingers into his own. Her black and silver riding outfit billows in the cool breeze, her purple eyes meeting his own. She smiles softly up at him, removing her hand from his own to place it on his cheek.

She gently pulls him towards her, pressing her lips against his own for a brief moment. When she pulls back, Haeron grins, running lips tongue over his lips. His tongue breaks a trial of saliva that had been connecting their lips.

A moment later, Rhaenys places both of her hands on her brother’s back and spins him toward her. She presses her lips to his in a more aggressive, needy way, eliciting a groan from Haeron’s lips.

She too pulls back a moment later and Haeron watches as she and Daenerys make out for a brief moment. The three share their intimacy as evenly as they can, doing their best to never leave one out.

The stars glimmer overhead as the Targaryen trio enjoy their moment, thoughts of their coming conquest making them enjoy the moment even more. They know that peaceful moments like this will soon be few and far between…

**_Location: Winterfell, The North. Time: Continuation._ **

**——Eddard Stark POV——**

Ned takes a deep breath, knowing that by making Bran watch him execute the deserter, he forcing the naivety of his son’s youth to be taken sooner than he would wish. By making his son watch him take the deserter’s head, he knows that Robb may begin to understand the difference between a game and real life.

As he mutters the words he always says before a kill, he cannot help but think back to what the deserter had said, “I know I broke my oath. And I know I’m a deserter. I should have gone back to The Wall and warned them. But I saw what I saw. I saw the White Walkers. People need to know…”

He wonders what the deserter could have seen that terrified him enough for him to flee his vows. For him to flee into an execution he had to have known was coming. Without anymore delaying, he swings _Ice_ in a large arc, removing the deserter’s head. He turns to look at his sons, nodding in approval that Bran did not look away. Robb and Theon eye the body with some trepidation.

He walks away, handing the sword to Ser Rodrik as he passes him. He walks to Bran, ruffling his son’s tousled brown hair before making his way back towards Winterfell.

**——**

Ned takes a deep breath, enjoying the sweet, calming scent of the Weirwood tree. The cool water at his feet reflects the sunlight that makes it through the leaves of the tree, shining slightly. He carefully and expertly cleans _Ice,_ removing the blood from the day’s execution from it.

He allows his mind to drift to the deserter’s words once more, pressing his left palm to his forehead. With his right hand, he continues to clean _Ice_. He is interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps.

“All these years and I still feel like an outsider when I come here.” His wife says, causing him to look up at her.

“You have five Northern children.” He states calmly. “You’re not an outsider.”

“I wonder if the Old Gods agree,” Catelyn says, taking a deep breath.

Ned smirks slightly, “It is your Gods with all the rules.”

He looks at her, his smirk falling away when he sees the look on her face and the small note in her grasp. “I am so sorry, my love.” She says.

“Tell me.” He says, his heart racing.

“There was a raven from King’s Landing. Jon Arryn is dead. A fever took him.”

Ned’s eyes widen in shock and sadness, as he looks down. His hand that had been cleaning his sword comes to a stop. “ _What will happen now? How could Jon have died? He never really had any health issues and he was always careful. Who will keep Robert restrained now?_ ”  
Catelyn continues to speak but Ned doesn’t hear her. His mind races, thoughts speeding through his head. Ned looks at his wife after a moment, “Your sister, the boy?”

Catelyn nods slowly, “They both have their health, Gods be good.”

His wife walks over to sit on the branch next to him, her hands clasped together. Birds chirp around them, contradicting Ned’s sullen mood.

After a moment, Catelyn adds, “The raven brought more news. The king rides for Winterfell with the Queen and all the rest of them.”

Ned takes a deep breath, “If he’s coming this far north, there’s only one thing he is after.”

“You can always say no, Ned,” Catelyn responds, her voice filled with worry.

Ned looks down, shaking his head sullenly, remains silent.

**_Location: A Small Home Outside of Starfall, Dorne. Time Continuation._ **

**——Jon Sand POV——**

Jon’s sword clangs against his mother’s, the sound of the collision ringing out and bouncing off the walls of the ravine they fight in. With an expertly timed parry and a perfectly placed counter-thrust, Jon has Ashara defenseless. “Well done, Jon.” His mother pants. “I wish my brother could see you now.”

Jon smiles at the praise, though his happiness doesn’t last long, “When can we leave her, mother?”

Ashara sighs, “Soon, Jon. Soon. I will be making a trip to Starfall soon and you can come with me. It is about time I reveal that I am not dead.”

Jon nods, doing his best to suppress his excitement. His mother looks at him in amusement, “It is okay, Jon. I would be just as happy as you if I was raised away from other people.”

She walks up to him, “I don’t want you to forget that you cannot mention your father’s name to anyone. That would not end well for him or for us. Bastards are more accepted in Dorne, but still are not fully respected. However, my family respects strength. You must prove that you are worthy of being considered a member of the family and you must not back down from those who will demand too much of you. Just remember that I love you, my son. And if your father knew about you, he would love you too.”

Jon nods, his purple eyes gleaming eagerly at the prospect of finally leaving his home of nearly eighteen years.

**A/N.**

**Here we go! Phase-One has begun! I apologize for the wait. My midterms are this week and I have found time to sneak in a chapter. I hope y’all enjoy it!**

**This is the opening chapter for this section of the story so was more of a set-up than anything else. I promise, more action is coming!**

**Explanations:**

**The scene depicting Lyanna and Rhaella discussing Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys and their beliefs is my way of warning you all that the Targaryen trio WILL NOT REMAIN fully ‘light,’ if you will. They will be a combination of Daenerys in season eight with Daenerys in season one. They will be extremely eager to free those who are oppressed, but they will also be willing and able to commit large acts of mass homicide to do it. MANY WILL DIE IN THEIR CONQUEST.**

**The scene with Ned Stark and Catelyn Stark is one that is word for word with how it is in the show. This will not be the case going forward. I just wanted to set it up in a way that allows you to see the plot beginning.**

**——**

**As always, I love you all! Thank you all so much for all the follows and favorites! Your reviews are what make me continue to write!**


	13. Chapter Thirteen(Pre-Phase)

**The Dragon King**

**Description:** During the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter falls through the Veil. His soul is ripped from his body but instead of dying, he meets Death where he is offered an alternative life. Harry eagerly accepts and is given a new fate inside the world of Westeros. He is born as Haeron Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He grows up surrounded by legendary tutors and friends and enters the Game of Thrones…

 **Pairings:** Harry Potter(Haeron Targaryen)/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen.

 **Tags:** Targaryen!Harry, OP!Harry, Super!Harry, King!Harry.

 **Rating:** Rated M.

 **Texts: Bold(Telepathic Speech), _Bold/Italic(Dragon Speech or location and time period)_** , _Italic(Personal Thoughts or magical spells),_ Normal(Dialogue and Exposition).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT or Harry Potter.

**Chapter Thirteen(First Blood)**

**A/N. Warning, the first part of this chapter is quite intense. If you do not like strong sexual content, you aren’t reading the right story. There will also be mentions of other triggering historical facts.**

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Essos. Time: Continuation(1x01)._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron’s breaths leave his mouth in pants. His chest heaves and his face is coated in a thin layer of sweat. His lips curl upwards in a satisfied smile as he moves his right hand up to rest on his bare chest.

He turns his head to look at Daenerys where she lies next to him, as naked as the day she was born. Her silver hair is plastered to her right cheek, her eyes shut. Her body is relaxed as her chest rises evenly with quick breaths.

Haeron smiles at her, reaching out with his left hand to brush the hair away from Daenerys’ cheek. He rests his palm against her pale skin, grinning when his aunt nuzzles into his hand, her whole body gravitating towards his own.

Haeron lets out a breath a moment later when Rhaenys’ lips come into contact with the skin beneath his right ear. She gently closes her teeth around the skin, nipping the sensitive skin. A groan leaves his lips as he spins to look at his sister. She smiles at him, her right hand moving down to the lower half of his body.

It brushes against his manhood, causing the flaccid member to jerk slightly against her palm. Haeron lets out a soft laugh, “Again?” He asks.

Rhaenys grins back at him, “Of course, little brother.”

Haeron tries to act as though he does not want to do what she wants him to do, closing his eyes and turning back to face Daenerys. Her purple eyes gleam with laughter as she looks at him, her pale cheeks flushed red. His eyes trail down her body, stopping briefly on her pert, pink nipples that are hard with desire. He soon notices that Daenerys has one hand between her legs, gently running over her wet folds.

His eyes widen, connecting the dots between her red complexion and her self-pleasuring. He is drawn from his thoughts when Rhaenys’ hand wraps around his manhood, beginning to run up and down it. Haeron’s member quickly grows hard under her ministrations, reacting to the flashes of pleasure that flood through his nerves.

He closes his eyes briefly, before opening them again. Rhaenys does not stop her actions, her hand expertly massaging his now-throbbing manhood. When he opens his eyes again, he is still looking at Daenerys. Her head is thrown back and her back is arched, a low moan leaving her lips as two of her fingers pump in and out of her womanhood.

Haeron reaches down, stopping her actions. She groans in disappointment for a brief moment before Haeron slips his own middle-finger into her, eliciting a high whimper. He remembers how close she was and instantly begins to move it in and out at a fast pace, grinning at how wet she is.

Her back arches even further, her eyes squeezed shut. Haeron moves his middle-finger even quicker, inserting is forefinger along with his middle finger. This action causes her to moan again, her tight tunnel clamping down around his digits. A moment later, her muscles contract and with a suppressed wail of pleasure, Daenerys reaches her peak for the second time of the night, this time from the effort of Haeron’s fingers rather than Rhaenys’.

As Daenerys reaches her climax, Haeron slowly removes his fingers from inside her. He rolls onto his other side to look at Rhaenys as she continues to massage his manhood. Her dark eyes glimmer with a mixture of love, lust, and desire as her actions pick up in pace. Seeing that he is done with Daenerys, she reaches up with her unoccupied hand, wrapping it around the back of his head and threading it into his silver hair.

She moves forward to press her nude body against his own, her breasts pressing against his chest as she aggressively kisses his lips. She places one of her legs through his, moving her body even closer to his own.

Her leg presses against his groin, moving his member to press against the crest of her cunt. Haeron threads his right hand into her own dark-brown hair, pulling her lips tighter against his own. With his other hand, he slips it into the small space between their bodies, pressing it against her womanhood. His thumb and forefinger soon close around her clit, squeezing it gently. Rhaenys’ body spasms against his own, forcing his hand to press against his manhood as he continues to pleasure her.

Their lips move in tandem, their fervor increasing with each movement Haeron makes on her clit. His hand falls a little lower in its movement, brushing along her lower lips and over a small hole. From experience, he knows that he isn’t at the right place so he moves past that hole. He moves even lower, his lips still being attacked by his sister without relent. His hand brushes against her entrance a moment later, the same hand that had moments before been buried between Daenerys’ legs. In one aggressive movement, he slips his middle-finger all of the way into her cunt. 

Rhaenys breaks the kiss briefly, a gasp leaving her lips at the sudden and total penetration. She soon overcomes the shock and crashes their lips together once more. She groans into his mouth as he increases the speed with which he slides his finger in and out. He lets out a gasp of his own when her left-hand wraps around his manhood. The two pleasure each other as one, not breaking the kiss at all, even to take in air.

The sound of their movements reverberates around the room, once more making Haeron glad for magic and silencing spells. Haeron and Rhaenys do not let up, but a moment later, Daenerys appears in the equation once more.

She wraps her arms around Haeron’s middle, her breasts pressing into his lower back. Her chin rests on his ribcage as she looks down on the brother and sister as they pleasure one another. The smell of sex in the room is nearly overwhelming but the three are used to it. Since their first time, they had learned that it is a better idea to take their bath _after_ their activities are complete for the night.

Daenerys’ chin digs into Haeron’s skin above his ribcage as Haeron feels his sister reach her climax. Her cunt tightens around his middle-finger and a moment later, he pulls it out. Her juices spill onto the bed, an oozing white.

A moment later, Haeron reaches his own climax, his manhood spasming as it sprays a few strands of cum out of it. His cum lands on Rhaenys’ womanhood and on the inside of her thighs as the two slowly break their kiss.

The sound of Rhaenys and Haeron breathing heavily becomes the only sound in the room, a soft laugh leaving Daenerys’ lips. “Are we done now?”

Rhaenys grins, her swollen lips splitting into a dirty grin. “I don’t want to be.”

Haeron laughs at his sister, “You know I can’t resist you, sister, but we should probably take our bath. We are supposed to meet mother and grandmother for breakfast early tomorrow so we can discuss what we plan to do first in our conquest. Ser Arthur, Ser Jamie, Ser Gerold, and Ser Oswald will all also be present. We should be at our best for the so we should get a good night’s sleep.”

Rhaenys pouts slightly but nods, a sigh leaving her lips. “You are right. We can continue later.”

Daenerys is the one to laugh this time, “Oh, don’t worry. We will. I want you inside me tomorrow night, Haeron. Not just your fingers.”

Haeron shakes his head, a chuckle of his own breaking past his lips. “What?” Daenerys asks.

Haeron shakes his head, “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering what my Uncle Sirius would think if he knew about this.” He laughs again. “I can picture it being a mix of pride and shock.”

Rhaenys and Daenerys laugh again with him. “Hae, how would he feel about…our relationship as a whole?”

Haeron’s smile falls away, “I do not think he would be against the polyamory entirely. He made some references to his school days that gave me images I didn’t want. However, as I have told both of you, incest is highly uncommon in my previous world. Some pureblood houses used it as a way to keep their bloodlines clean, but some research seemed to suggest that that would weaken the magical cores of the offspring of such relationships. As such, it was highly frowned upon. I cannot imagine he would be overly pleased. Especially with my relationship with you, Daenerys. Even if you are younger, you are still my aunt.” 

He sighs as he completes his statement, closing his eyes briefly as images of Sirius’ death pass through his mind’s eye. Images of green light slamming into him and sending him into the same Veil that Voldemort later pushed him into. “I am sorry, Haeron. I know you miss him.” His sister says.

Haeron shakes his head, “I do miss him but I am happy here. More so than I ever was as Harry Potter.” He laughs again, though this time the laugh is tinged with sadness as another thought entering his mind. “I can picture Hermione’s voice as she lectures me about how wrong what we are doing are. She was always one for facts and I can actually picture how her voice would sound as she lectures me for what I am doing.”

Daenerys runs a hand down his chest in an attempt to calm him, his muscular chest still heaving from his recent peak. “What would she have said?”

Haeron laughs again, “Probably something along the lines of, ‘Harry, do you have any idea how wrong what you are doing is? It’s barbaric!’”

The three all laugh at that, Haeron continuing, “Though, to be fair, compared to my previous world, the customs in this world would definitely be considered barbaric.”

“Was it really that different? What makes this world so different?” Daenerys questions curiously.

Haeron nods, “Oh, yes. The technology in my previous life was far superior to that here. There was something called electricity that fueled most of the non-magical world. The non-magic folk possessed weapons of unimaginable power. I read about a _nuclear_ bomb that used nuclear fission to create an explosion that was capable of leveling an entire city. One of the countries in my previous world, the United States of America, used one of those weapons on Japan and reportedly killed over 120,000 people with the after-effects killing an estimated 100,000 more.”

Both Daenerys and Rhaenys don’t know what to say to that, “Why was it used? There is no way everyone who died deserved that fate.”

Haeron sighs, “I honestly didn’t get a chance to learn too much about the war the bomb was in. All I know is that the United States ended up dropping a second nuclear bomb on a different Japanese city. Soon after, Japan surrendered and World War Two, as it was called, came to an end. In order to end the war, the US committed acts that many would never imagine necessary.”

“Why did the war start?” Daenerys asks.

Haeron sighs, “Once more, I do not know much. What I do know was that the leader of another country called Germany, Adolf Hitler, decided that his race of people were far superior to the rest of the world. He commanded his armies to commit genocide on a group of people called the Jews. They were murdered for their religion until other countries around the world finally put a stop to it. However, they were too late to save an estimated ten million Jewish people who were murdered for being different.”

Rhaenys looks appalled, “What were the Germans? Why did they think they were superior?”

Haeron looks down, “Aryan people is what they were called. They often times had blonde hair and blue eyes as well, though the color of their skin was the main factor.”

“That is horrible!” Daenerys exclaims. “To judge someone based on a characteristic out of their control is completely foolhardy and ridiculous. Everyone should be judged by the content of their character not the color of their skin.”

“Agreed. It is a horrible and disgusting way of deciding whether one is worthy of living or if they deserve to die. As I said, much of the world was against that idea and that is why the war started.” Haeron replies, his purple eyes dull at the dark conversation they are discussing.

“That is enough of that. We reek. Let us go take a bath.” Daenerys says in an attempt to break the sullen mood. “I am sorry for forcing you to talk about all of that, Hae. I wouldn’t have asked if I had known what the answers would be. That information will never be relevant to me but my curiosity got the better of me.”

Haeron shakes his head, “I don’t blame you for asking questions, Dany. Or you, Rhae. If I was in your place, I would want to know these things. However, as you said, you will never need to know about all of that. I am not sure why I even gave such detailed answers.”

The three fall silence once more before Haeron sits up. He crawls to the end of the bed before standing up. He feels the eyes of Daenerys and Rhaenys watching him as he walks toward the door that leads towards the bath. He can’t help but wonder what he would have thought if he had been told he would willingly let his aunt and sister see him naked after having sex with them when he was Harry Potter. He can imagine it would have been somewhere in between horror and disgust.

He opens the wooden door, feeling the silencing wards around him as he steps through them. They break the moment he steps through them. He walks towards the already-full bath, stopping in front of the wardrobe to grab clothes to put on after bathing. He grabs three towels, placing them on the wooden table next to the bath. Haeron places his hand in the water and closes his eyes briefly, channeling some magical energy into the water to heat it up. Steam rises from the surface as usual and Haeron wastes no time climbing into the water and settling his head against the back of it.

He closes his eyes, the feel of the boiling water against his skin one that never gets old. He hears the water splash across from him as Daenerys and Rhaenys get in, each settling in their usual corner of the tub. He opens his eyes, smiling when he sees Daenerys looking at him. “What is it, Dany?”

“I was wondering why you chose to tell us so much about that war back in your old life.” She states.

Haeron sighs, “You both know that my past life was far from ideal. I dealt with situations that I wouldn’t wish on anyone my age. Even when I was young, I had no freedom to truly be a child. I told you two about World War Two because I want both of you to realize something. We have discussed this before to some degree but I want to clarify.”

Rhaenys looks at him intently, her dark eyes glimmering. “What is it you want to clarify, Hae?”

Haeron takes a deep breath, “After going nearly my entire life as Harry Potter without anyone I could truly love, I am overjoyed to have this opportunity to have a family of my own. However, what scares me the most, is the idea that I could lose other of you. I know that physically and talent-wise, there is no-one who would be able to even touch either of you, but I still worry. I worry that if something happens to either of you, I would burn everyone who had anything to do with it. I worry that if I lost one of you, I would become consumed by rage and hatred and the already strong dragon’s blood within my veins would take over.”

He pauses for a brief moment, “Actually, I don’t _worry,_ I _know_ that if something happened to either of you, I would burn anyone to avenge or save you. It wouldn’t matter to me rather they were guilty or innocent. Soldiers or women and children. The very thought of losing either of you terrifies me more than even death.”

Rhaenys swims over to him, placing a hand on one cheek and making him look her in her eyes, “Haeron, you have to realize the same is true for all of us. As we told grandmother all those months ago, the influence the dragons have had on us is more than we thought it would be. I am sure that I wouldn’t hesitate to burn entire cities to the ground in search of vengeance. In fact, I can picture myself reveling in the screams that would rise as those who would attempt to take you two from me, burn. That may sound horribly twisted and sadistic but it is true. Family is everything.”

Daenerys nods, “I agree with Rhaenys, Hae. I doubt even my mother would be able to stop me from burning anyone who would dare to take you from me. I can already feel the bond I share with Baleria calling to me. It begs me to acquiesce and give in to the darkness building within me. War is and always has been plagued with death. Violence is the basis of humanity. The human species naturally desire to better one's current position and there are those who will do whatever it takes to do so.”

Haeron sighs, “I know. I know that I shouldn’t be worried about this and what scares me the most is that, as Rhaenys said, I can picture me being completely remorseless and murdering anyone, even those who do not deserve death. That is what scares me the most. The idea that if I was given a choice between the lives of our family and the rest of humanity, I would choose our family without a second thought. I would let the rest of this world’s occupants die if it meant our family would be safe.”

Rhaenys leans forward, pressing her forehead against Haeron’s. “Let us hope it never comes to that. I know that I would make the same decision, Hae. The lives of our family are the only ones that mean anything to me. Yes, I would mourn the deaths of my extended family, but their deaths would be meaningless next to either of your’s.”

Haeron sighs, “You are right. Besides, this is my second chance at life. I should live it to the fullest. I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks though. I am glad that I am not willing to fly to King’s Landing and burn it to the ground as that would be a new level of madness. That would be far easier and would probably actually save lives in the long run, but that would be killing for an unjustifiable reason. I am glad that the dragons have not changed me that much.”

Daenerys and Rhaenys nod in agreement and Rhaenys swims back over to her corner, the water lapping against her light-brown skin. Haeron brings his right leg up to sit on the ledge he sits on, leaving his other leg hanging off the ledge. He cocks his head to one side, deep in thought. He thoughtlessly runs his right hand through the water, resting his left arm on the edge of the bath so that his finger-tips barely dip into the water. He can smell the incense the candles behind him release, a relaxing scent. His chest rises and falls, creating little ripples of water that travel away from his body. He closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the moment.

He can sense the light from the moon flooding against his back as it pours through the open window. His mind slowly relaxes, his body releasing the tension it has held since he realized the true extent of the changes his bond with Saegar has caused.

He hears the water splash and opens his eyes to see Rhaenys rising to her feet in the center of the bath. The water comes up to just below her breasts, leaving them exposed to the cool nighttime breeze. She begins to clean herself, her eyes closed as she runs a small washcloth across her skin.

Wordlessly, Daenerys swims over to do their usual routine, running her fingers through Rhaenys’ brown locks. Haeron closes his eyes again, listening to the water lapping from the movements of Rhaenys and Daenerys. He leans his head backward, the back of his head resting against the edge of the bath. He leans forward a moment later, the stone incredibly uncomfortable.

He opens his eyes once more and sees Rhaenys running a hand over her stomach. He watches as she washes away the remnants of his cum from her thighs, his purple eyes locking with her own dark pupils.

Her face remains expressionless as she runs the cloth up from her thighs, brushing it gently against her core. Haeron takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying to stop the blood that rushes down to his member at the sight. He clears his mind once more, calming himself down. A moment later, he feels the water shift toward him.

Acting naturally, he shifts positions, so he faces the edge of the bath. He soon feels fingers run through his silver locks, allowing the ministrations to pull his head back into the water. He pulls it back up a moment later, water dripping into the water from his long locks.

He reaches toward a small basket on his side of the bath, pulling out his own washcloth. He begins to clean the rest of his body as one of the women clean his hair. He feels his hair being let down from its tie, draping itself over his shoulders.

He soon finishes cleaning himself and feels his hair being tied back into its traditional look. He climbs out of the bath, picking up one of the three towels. He turns and hands the other two to Daenerys and Rhaenys as they exit the water.

It must have been Daenerys who did his hair while Rhaenys did her’s because they exit as soon as he does. The three quickly dry themselves and pull on their nightclothes. They walk toward the bed where Haeron mutters, “ _Scourgify._ ” The stains of cum and other substances vanish, leaving the bed clean and ready for them to sleep in. The cool breeze from the window quickly removes the smell of sex, replacing it with fresh, evening air.

The three fall asleep quickly, focused on each other and their synced heartbeats.

**——**

The next morning, the three wake up at the crack of dawn, quickly walking to the wardrobe in the bedroom. They dress, Haeron selecting his traditional black undershirt. He walks over to the mannequin that holds his thin black armor, pulling it over his head. He straps the shoulder pads on, shaking himself to make the armor fit against his body.

Rhaenys has her own armor on already and is helping strap on Daenerys’ armor when he turns to look at them. The three walk to the mirror in the corner of the room, quickly fixing their appearances to their liking before walking out of their chambers.

They come to the entrance to the dining room, nodding to Jon Connington and Jorah Mormont who stand just outside the doors. The two knights pull the doors open and the Targaryen trio enters the room.

Sunlight streams through a beautiful stained glass window on the east side of the room, sending streams of colored light onto the table. Different plates of food cover the table, each one smelling delicious.

Rhaella and Lyanna sit at one end of the table made to hold ten people. The King’s Guard sit at the other end of the table, nodding in respect to them as they enter. They walk over to the end of the table that Rhaella and Lyanna sit up, settling themselves down. Haeron sits next to his mother with Rhaenys on his right. Daenerys sits across from them next to her own mother. “Well, good morning, you three,” Lyanna says. “Sleep well?”

The three nod yes and begin to fill up their plates with food. “We will begin our conversation after you three have eaten,” Rhaella says.

Haeron nods, focusing on the plate of food in front of him. He inhales it, his appetite having increased with his age. He adds a little bit more food to his plate, quickly eating that too.

Once the three are done eating, Lyanna calls out, “Arthur, Gerold, Oswell, Jamie, we are ready. Please join us over here.”

The four King’s Guard walk over to them, Jamie and Arthur standing behind Haeron and Oswell and Gerold behind Daenerys. “Ser Arthur, bring the map.” Haeron orders.

The man nods and walks over to a wooden table at the far end of the open dining room. He walks back over a few moments later, a large paper map in his grasp. He places it on the table. Haeron unravels it, placing a small metal object on one side to keep the map from furling up again. Daenerys does the same to the side of the map near her.

“Let us get straight to the chase.” Haeron begins. “In order for us to reclaim what is ours from the Usurper, we will need an army. Before we turn our focus to Westeros, however, we are going to conquer Essos.”

Ser Arthur nods, “A good idea, Your Grace, but that will be nearly impossible to accomplish. To control all of Essos would take immense power and organization. And that isn’t even mentioning the Dothraki and their Dothraki Sea. You three would never be able to keep control over all of Essos at once.”

Haeron sighs, “Thank you for the vote of confidence, Ser Arthur.” He quips. “However, you do make a few good points.” He points to an area on the map around a hundred miles north of their current location.

“We flew over a Dothraki encampment here.” He marks the spot with a black X.

“You saw the Dothraki?” Rhaella questions. “How did they not see or hear the dragons? They aren’t exactly quiet.”

“We mostly glided when within earshot of their camp. And as for how they didn’t see us, the dragons blend nearly perfectly into a clear night sky. Unless they were specifically looking for us, they wouldn’t have even been able to determine a shadow flitting across the sky.” Daenerys answers her mother’s question.

“What is your plan for the Dothraki?” Ser Jamie asks. “My _father_ ,” He sneers out the word father, “Would always tell me that the Dothraki are nearly impossible to beat in an open field. However, you would need a way to transport them to Westeros, something that you definitely do not have at the moment.”

Rhaenys nods, “You are correct, Ser Jamie. The Dothraki will be extremely valuable during our conquest. However, you are also right in the fact that we currently have no way to get them to Westeros. Due to this fact, the Dothraki will likely be one of the last targets we have before sailing towards Westeros. We will deal with the other cities of Essos before we turn to them.”

“This is all well and good, Your Grace, Your Highnesses, but what do you plan to do first?” Ser Gerold questions.

“We have no desire to burn innocents if we can help it so we will need an army before we target the larger cities. There are a few options to get an army but there is one we favor.” Haeron begins. “We need an elite force of soldiers to allow us to take other cities here in Essos. One of the strongest military forces in the world is based here, in Essos, and we intend to make good use of that.”

Ser Arthur raises an eyebrow, “Which military force are you talking about?”

Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys all turn to look at him, “A force created by House Blackfyre. One of the most infamous military forces on this Earth. One renowned for never turning back on a paid deal. Their words are ‘Beneath the gold, the bitter.’”

At those words, Lyanna and Rhaella gasp, “Haeron, what makes you think they will agree to work for you? You have no money to pay them with. You have no proof that you are even Targaryen.”

Haeron grins at her, “Come now, mother. Do you really forget what the symbol of our house is? Something that we have three of?”

Rhaella shakes her head, “If you use the dragons to get them to work for you, the Usurper will almost certainly hear of their existence and of yours. I do not see that plan ending well, Haeron.”

“I have to agree with her, Hae. This would risk ruining your element of surprise before you have any sort of power base.” Lyanna adds. “It risks destroying your chance to take back your throne.”

Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys share a look, “I know, mother, grandmother. Do you three share their opinion?” He asks the King’s Guard.

Arthur nods, “Yes, Your Grace. The Golden Company may be incredible fighters, but what makes you think that the King would not hear of your existence?”

Haeron grins, raising his right hand. An orb of light forms on it, “You have all forgotten what I am capable of. Besides, the King will soon know of our existence either way. I would prefer he hears about us in a way that makes him fear us. We _want_ him to know we still exist so that he will keep an eye on us. The element of surprise would not get us very far, but by releasing our existence, we can begin to gather allies to our side.”

Arthur nods slowly, “I must admit, Your Grace, that is well-thought-out. However, you still haven’t answered how you are going to pay for the Golden Company.”

Haeron’s smile turns dark, “Oh, I do not believe they will require payment when they see our dragons. The Golden Company was created by House Blackfyre. They shouldn’t be against working for us. Besides, Jon Connington has told me that he and Harry Strickland used to know one another. Jon worked for them for a few years after my father’s passing. Strickland leads the Golden Company and should not be able to deny us.”

“And what happens if they say no?” Lyanna asks.

“Then, they will discover the true power of House Targaryen. They are either with us or against us. There is no middle ground.” Daenerys states, her purple eyes flashing. “They will have to choose how much they value their own lives.”

“You are prepared to kill them if they do not join you?” Rhaella asks. “Why would you not allow them to say no?”

Haeron sighs, “If the Golden Company does not agree to work for us, it is highly likely that they will eventually turn their forces against us, either in the services of the Usurper or one of the Free Cities. No, they will have to make their choice.”

“Where are the Golden Company based?” Ser Gerold asks.

Haeron shakes head, “We do not know that. Finding them is going to prove to be our first challenge. Jon Connington has a few ideas and he will help us search. We will have to travel on the ground as if we are to search, the dragons would draw far too much unwanted attention.”

Rhaella nods, “I can tell you three have thought all of this out, but where will you even start looking? You said Jon may know where to start, but what if he is wrong?”

Haeron laughs, “Come now, grandmother. How hard can it be to find a sell-sword army numbered over twenty-thousand who are famous for their elephants and golden armor.”

Lyanna nods, “Alright, you three. If the Golden Company is your first target, where will be your second?”

“It really depends on where we find the Golden Company. Let’s be honest, there is no city in the world that will be able to stop the Golden Company and dragons. We will still think carefully about who to attack, but it really shouldn’t matter.” Rhaenys responds, her black hair shifting in a warm breeze that flows through an opening at the bottom of the stained-glass window.

“I must warn you three against getting over-confident.” Ser Arthur states. “I know that you are probably correct, but do not allow yourselves to get too sure of your capabilities. You fight the best when you know your capabilities perfectly.”

Haeron nods, “We know, Ser Arthur. However, can you think of one thing that will be able to stop us or the dragons? I can’t unless there is another magical being that is capable of taking us on.”

Ser Arthur shakes his head, “I cannot, Your Grace, but that is not my point. The thought that there isn’t any known threat to your power is not certain enough. Do not forget that there are thousands of unknown variables you will have to deal with over the coming years.”

The Targaryen Trio nod at his words, “We will heed your advice, Ser Arthur. We always will. But you have to understand that confidence is one of the most important parts of winning a war.”

“It is, Your Grace.” Arthur nods, agreeing with Haeron’s statement.

Haeron nods, “Good. We set out tomorrow at first light. We need to get at least to Meereen by tomorrow evening.”

Haeron turns to his mother, “Mother, once our conquest begins, you will need to take on an alias. If the Usurper discovers Uncle Ned lied to him, it will cause conflict before we are ready.”

Lyanna nods, “I will. I will speak with Rhaella and decide who I should call myself this afternoon.”

Haeron nods, “Good.”

The young King and his sister and aunt stand up from the table, Rhaenys saying, “It is time for us to get to the training yard one last time. Tonight we will pack everything we will need. You, Ser Arthur, and you, Ser Jamie, do the same. The rest of you will join us after we do this. We need to travel in small groups that won’t draw too much attention. Bring what you need to the entrance hall tonight at sundown.”

Haeron nods, “Once we leave, you must consider the possibility that your location could be compromised.” He pauses for a moment before muttering, “ _Constant vigilance._ ”

The Targaryen Trio walk out of the room with Haeron stopping before Jon Connington. “You are going to come with us in our search of the Golden Company. Have all you will need in the entrance hall tonight at sundown but only bring necessities.” The man nods.

Haeron smiles, “Good. We set out tomorrow at sundown so after you place what you will need in the entrance hall, go to sleep. You are relieved from your watch tonight to do so.”

Jon nods, “Yes, Your Grace.”

**_Location: Winterfell, the North. Time: Continuation(1x01)._ **

**——Eddard Stark POV——**

The first few horses ride through the arch and into Winterfell’s courtyard, a King’s Guard in the front. A boy with golden hair follows close behind, a cocky smirk marking his prominent Lannister features. “ _That must be Joffrey._ ”

Right behind him, a man wearing metal armor and a helmet in the shape of a hound. Ned recognizes the man from the helmet, watching as the man follows the golden-haired prince. He feels his blood turn cold when he watches Joffrey send a smirk toward his eldest daughter. He sees her blush the color of her hair, her eyes looking at her feet. “ _I need to talk to her about that._ ” He thinks. “ _That boy is nothing but trouble._ ”

A large carriage decorated in the traditional Lannister red and gold follows soon after, being pulled by two black horses. The carriage stands in stark contrast to the white and silver banners of House Stark, standing out like blood in water.

Ned takes a deep breath as he watches another King’s Guard enter with Robert riding just behind him, Robert riding a large black mare. He wears brown armor with a thick black coat on his shoulders. He does not look healthy. His face is red, though that could be from the chilly air. It is his eyes that make Ned nervous. They flit all over Winterfell, brushing over all of his children and his wife. They seem to glance at everyone, wary of an attack from anyone in Winterfell. “ _Jon’s death must have shocked Robert,_ ” Ned concludes.

The moment the king approaches them, Ned lowers himself down onto a knee in respect, all of his people following his example. He hears the shuffling of feet and the snorting of horses, soon joined by heavy footfalls approaching him. He glances up, seeing Robert’s right-hand gesture for him to stand. Ned stands, the rest of his family following his example once more.

“Your Grace,” Ned says, bowing his head in respect after rising to his feet.

For a moment, the king says nothing. His face remains impassive as he stares at Ned. After a moment, he says, “You got fat.” The king states.

Ned can sense the King’s humor so, he makes a show of glancing down at Robert’s own ballooned middle. For a moment once more, the king does nothing, the air tense. Then he bursts into laughter, breaking the tense moment.

Robert embraces Ned in a brotherly fashion, greeting him as an old friend. He pulls away a moment later, turning his attention to Catelyn. “Cat…” he says, hugging her with one arm.

The king ruffles Rickon’s hair before walking to stand before Ned again, “How long has it been, Ned? Since I last saw you. Where the hell have you been?”

Ned smiles, “Guarding the North for you, Your Grace.” He responds.

Behind the king, he sees a familiar golden-haired woman exit the carriage, hiking up her skirts as she steps down onto the ground.

Ned hears Arya ask a question and hears Sansa retort. “Who have we here?” Robert asks, walking to stand in front of Robb. “You must be Robb.”

The two shake hands in greeting before Robert continues down the line. “My, you’re a pretty one,” Robert says, looking at Sansa.

He walks past her, stopping in front of Arya. He notices the way she carries herself and smiles, “Your name is?” He asks.

“Arya,” His daughter responds.

Ned laughs when Robert asks Bran to show him his muscles, before saying, “You’ll be a soldier.”

Ned sighs, “ _I pray to the gods he won’t be._ ”

The Queen walks over to Ned, standing just before him. She holds out her hand and Ned brings it up to his lips. “My Queen.” He says.

The golden-haired woman smiles a clearly forced smile at him before Catelyn bows to her. “Take me to your crypt,” Robert says instantly. “I will pay my respects.”

Ned nods but the Queen interrupts his response, “We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait.”

The king ignores her and gestures for Ned to follow him. His eyes continue to flicker around the courtyard, searching out any danger. His left-hand rests on a sword in its sheathe on his hip.

Ned follows after him, bowing his head slightly to the Queen once more. Cersei’s face is expressionless, but Ned can sense her annoyance and can understand it.

The Queen walks over to another golden-haired man, asking, “Where is my little brother? Go and find the little beast.”

**——**

Ned leads the king into the crypts, the walls hung with lit torches to light their path. “Tell me about Jon Arryn,” Ned asks the moment they enter.

Robert sighs, shaking his head, “It is really strange, Ned. One minute he was fine and then…Burned right through him, whatever it was. I loved that man.”

“We both did.” Ned responds.

Robert sighs, “His death worries me, Ned. I know that much of the occupants of the Red Keep think me a fool, even my wife does, but his death doesn’t feel right to me.”  
“You worry that there was a less than natural reason he got ill and died so suddenly?” Ned questions, nodding to the king’s idea.

Robert nods, “Yes. Jon may have been on the older side, but he was still healthy. Far more so than me, at least. I have no idea if I am right, and if I am, who could be behind it. I just worry.”

Robert comes to a stop a moment later, his eyes meeting Ned’s. “I need you, Ned. Down at King’s Landing, not here where you are no damn use to anybody.”

Ned takes a deep breath, preparing to politely reject the offer but before he can, Robert continues. “Lord Eddard Stark, I would name you the Hand of the King. I need you now more than ever, Ned. I…I can barely even think straight half the time. Jon’s death has fucked up my mind and I need someone to keep me in line.”

Ned’s mind races and he sighs inaudibly, lowering himself down onto one knee before the king, “I am not worthy of the honor.” He says humbly.

“I am not trying to honor you, Ned. I truly do need you. King’s Landing could use a Northerner to keep everyone in line.” He pauses for a moment. “Not a day goes by where I don’t see those silver-haired bastards dancing in my dreams. I can’t make the dreams stop and they only serve to anger me. The Targaryens are still out there, Ned. I can feel it.”

The King stops speaking, looking down at Ned on his knees, “Stand up, Ned. You helped me win the Iron Throne.” “ _One of the worst decisions of my life.”_ “Now help me keep the damn thing. We are meant to rule together, Ned.”

Robert inhales loudly, “If your sister had lived, we’d be bound by blood.”

Ned does his best not to flinch at that statement, disgust at the idea of Lyanna being married to his old friend flooding through his veins.

Robert sees the look of disgust and nods, misinterpreting it. “It isn’t too late, Ned. We can still join our houses. I have a son, you have a daughter. We’ll join our houses.”

Ned does his best to cloak his horror at the idea behind a blank mask, knowing from his time at King’s Landing what a spoiled and arrogant boy Joffrey is becoming.

He follows after Robert further into the crypts until they reach the statue crafted in Lyanna’s likeness. He watches silently as Robert pulls out a small feather and places it in the statues open palm. “Did you have to bury her in a place like this?” Robert asks, voice filled with pain. “She should be on a hill somewhere with the sun and the clouds above her.”

“She was my sister.” Ned responds slowly, _almost_ saying _‘is my sister_.’ “This is where she belongs.”

“She belonged with me,” Robert states, his voice wavering. He reaches up with his left hand to touch the statues cold, stone cheek. “In my dreams, I still see her. I see myself killing that Targaryen bastard who stole her from me.”

“It is done, Your Grace.” Ned states. “The Targaryens seem to be gone.”

Robert’s voice is cold as he says, “Not all of them, Ned. I can feel it. They are still out there somewhere, waiting to launch an invasion to take back my throne. Don’t forget that there were rumors of Targaryens in Pentos a few years ago. You were there. You heard what Lord Varys and Lord Baelish had to say.”

“I was, Your Grace. However, I only believe what I see with my own eyes. I will need more concrete proof before allowing myself to believe that Targaryens may still exist.” Ned responds, careful not to give anything away.

**_Location: The Road to Starfall, Dorne. Time: Continuation(1x01)._ **

**——Jon Sand POV——**

Jon pulls his hood further over his head nervously as he follows after his mother. They soon exit the tree line, coming to a dirt road that leads off in both directions. “Which way, mother?”

Ashara pulls her own hood tighter around her dark locks of hair, her violet eyes glimmering in the light of the sun. “This way, Jon.” She responds, turning right and beginning to walk.

“How far is Starfall from here, mother?” Jon questions.

“It will probably take us around a month to reach on foot. We will stop in the woods to rest. Until we reach Starfall, tell no one your name. I don’t care who it is who asks you.” Ashara responds.

Jon nods, following his mother on the dirt road.

After walking for a few hours, the sound of horse hooves fills Jon’s ears, a sound he has only heard once before. A moment later, two riders come into view, one wearing a grey shirt and the other in light black armor. They see Ashara and Jon and ride towards them, “Well, who might you two be?” One of the men asks.

Ashara steps forward, “We are merely travelers seeking a visit to family in Starfall. Surely you fine men will not stop that?”

The first man grins at her, “Give me an hour with you and we will gladly let you go, my lady.”

Jon clenches the sword at his side, his purple eyes piercing into the man. The other man shakes his head, “Come on, man. Just let them pass. You can satisfy your base desires later.”

The first man looks sharply at the second man, “Shut up, Roy.” He snarls.

He turns his gaze back on Ashara, his eyes predatory as they sweep over her body, “Come on, my lady. Just an hour. Then the two of you can be on your way.”

Ashara sighs, making her way toward the man. Jon looks at his mother in shock, watching the triumphant look that appears on the man’s face. However, that look turns to horror when his mother draws her blade from its sheathe on her leg and buries it into his stomach.

The man lets out a gasp, his hands pressing into his stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding. His eyes bulge as he looks at her, blood soaking through the thin grey shirt he wears and dripping down his hands. “You fucking bitch.” He chokes out, making to draw his own sword with one hand while keeping the other pressed to the wound.

Before he can, Ashara gracefully slides her blade across the man’s throat. More of the red liquid pours from the expanding line on his throat as the man gargles a few more times before collapsing off of his horse.

The other man looks at Ashara in shock, guiding his horse a few steps back and placing a hand on a dagger strapped to the horse’s saddle. Jon draws his sword, taking a step toward the man. His mother stops him. “Go.” Is all she says.

The man hesitates for a brief moment, his eyes looking down at his companion’s lifeless body. A moment later, he turns his horse and rides away at a fast pace.

Jon walks over to his mother, sheathing his blade. “Come on, Jon. Up.”

Jon looks at the horse before looking back at his mother. His inexperience shows as she pulls himself onto the saddle, his mother gracefully climbing on in front of him. “Wrap your arms around my middle and hold on.” She orders.

Jon does as he is told, his grip tightening when the horse begins to move. “We will get to Starfall quicker now. I would say we will be there within three weeks.” His mother states.

Jon nods, his eyes flashing eagerly at the prospect of meeting his mother’s family.

**A/N.**

**POLL: Alright, as we are getting into the later phase of this story, I need to determine more of the pairings that will be present in this story. Please comment with pairings you want to see...**

**Haeron Targaryen/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen. (This pairing is already locked, THOUGH THERE MAY BE A FUTURE ADDITION.)**

**Jon Sand/Arriane Martell. (This is my current favorite for Jon.)**

**Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell. (This is my current favorite for Robb.)**

**Arya Stark/?. (I do not really have any preference here but I don't really want to do Gendry.)**

**Sansa Stark/?. (I do not know about Sansa yet either.)**

**Some people are reviewing and commenting on the repetitive, slow pace of this story. It is MEANT to be slow. The repetition is something that I try to avoid but it will continue to happen as it is part of the story. Yes, some scenes will be repeated many times over the course of this story. (Such as the bathing scenes) and if you wish to read this story, you will just need to accept that fact. I am purposefully slowing the pace of this story as I want it to feel suspenseful.**

**The numbers next to ‘continuation’ will be used to indicate approximately in what episode of the GoT show the events take place.**

**Explanations:**

**Before any of you comment about the conversation about WW2 and that whole thing being unnecessary, I promise I have a reason for it. More on that later.**

**So, the first target of the Targaryens has been revealed. The Golden Company will be the first thing they will attempt to get, though it will be far from easy.**

**This story is meant to be slow-paced, just as the show is at times. It is meant to drag out certain encounters so that this story isn’t far too rushed.**

**Yes, parts of the conversation with Robert and Ned were copied from the show. Once more, this will happen only rarely to provide context for the additional dialogue.**

**Ashara and Jon are on the way to Starfall. That storyline will start out slow, as all do, but will pick up upon their arrival.**

**More information on Cersei and her infidelity will be revealed slowly. Obviously, Jamie is not the father of her children.**

**—**

**As always, thanks for reading! I am on break this week so that is why I have gotten two chapters out so quickly.**


	14. Chapter Fourteen(Phase-One)

**Chapter Fourteen(Fire and Blood)**

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Essos. Time: Continuation(1x01)._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron can feel his heart racing at the prospect that he will soon leave his home for over ten years. The home that gave him so many happy memories. The location he will always remember, even though he knows that there is almost no chance he will ever see it again.

He rolls over onto his right side, his purple eyes finding his sister’s sleeping form. He smiles softly, watching her chest rise and fall. He can’t help but admire how beautiful she is asleep, her usually-stoic features sporting a relaxed, peaceful smile. She has her head rested on her hands, her legs curled up towards her chest. Her dark-brown hair hangs around her, partially hiding her right eye from view. Her golden-brown skin glimmers in the light of the rising sun as it gleams through the window.

Haeron feels soft hands begin to massage his back and lets out a sigh. He keeps his gaze on his sister, feeling his aunt’s nimble fingers work out the tension in his back. Haeron can’t help but fear the drastic changes his life will soon undergo. Rather than having a set routine of training in combat and political etiquette and studying all of the major houses of Westeros and learning what he will need to be King, he has to learn to improvise based on the day. War is never predictable.

Haeron sighs again, his muscular chest rising with the intake of breath that follows his sigh. He sits up in bed, the movement making Dany stop massaging his back. He places his right arm beneath him, holding himself up as he looks at his sister. He leans down, pressing his lips to Rhaenys’ lips briefly. “You need to wake up, dear sister.”

Rhaenys stirs, a groan leaving her lips. “I don’t want to.” She mutters.

Haeron sighs, “Neither do I, Rhae. But we need to get up. We need to prepare to set out later today.”

Rhaenys sits up, “Alright,” she states, voice husky from sleep.

Haeron rolls over to face his aunt, smiling at her. “Are you ready, Dany?”

Daenerys nods, her violet eyes glimmering. “Of course, Hae. We have been awaiting this day for years now. We are finally going to take back what is our’s by right.”

Haeron nods, “Yes, we will. And no one will stop us.”  
Rhaenys interrupts the two of them, “We need to talk about the dragons.”

Haeron and Daenerys nod, “Yeah. How will we handle them? Sending them off unattended is not a good idea. They could decide to take matters into their own claws and then we would be in trouble. Maybe we can have them fly high above us behind cloud-cover?”

Daenerys nods, “That could work, but what would happen on a clear day? Besides, their wingbeats would likely be heard. They are extremely large in size and we know from experience how loud their wingbeats are.”

Haeron shakes his head, “We might not have a choice but to keep them with us, even if that reveals to everyone who we are. I doubt anyone will dare attack us if they know we have the dragons. And the Golden Company might hear rumors about the dragons before we find them and then they may prove more willing to serve us.”

Rhaenys nods, “That might be our only course of action. However, I worry that there will be those that will be more fearful of the dragons and what they are capable of than who we are. They may decide to follow us solely for the sake of not facing the wrath of the dragons. I worry we may receive loyalty inspired by fear, and while that is not the end of the world, I would rather know that those who serve us can be trusted. Fear-inspired loyalty is not true loyalty.”

Daenerys shakes her head, “I disagree. Every sane person will be fearful of our dragons, but if we are able to wield the power the dragons grant us correctly, they will see that we are not our ancestors. That I am not my father and the two of you are not your grandfather. We cannot make the people think we are nothing more than the new coming of Aerys Targaryen, the Mad King. We need to make the people realize that we are the second-coming of Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya.”

Haeron nods, “Exactly. Those who serve us will have to accept our actions in terms of the power we possess. They will have to come to realize that we are dragons and we are not afraid to use the power of Fire and Blood.”

The three fall silent, having said all they can think of. Haeron rises from the bed, moving the sheet to one side as he does so. The white material falls away, revealing Haeron to be entirely naked.

He walks over to a table against one wall, picking up his undershirt and breeches. He pulls them on before walking over to the mannequins against the other wall. He takes a moment to look at the armor, the black surface made of sturdy leather. Silver lines the armor, a sheathe on the back of it built in to hold his sword.

Haeron pulls it off of the mannequin, pulling the chest-armor over his head. The material is snug against his muscular build. He attaches the other pieces of the armor for his shoulders and arms, before turning around. Daenerys and Rhaenys are in the process of pulling their own armor on.

Haeron walks over to Daenerys, helping her get into her own armor.

Once the three Targaryens are dressed in armor, they walk to the bathroom. Haeron leads the way to a mirror to one side of the room, and the three prepare their appearances to set out.

Rhaenys is the first one ready as she does not care about having a specific look with her hair. In comparison, Haeron likes to have his silver hair in a half-up/half-down look. The silver locks hang around the back of his head, but for the most part, stay out of his way. He likes having longer hair, but if it isn’t handled properly it can become a hazard in battle.

Rhaenys taps her foot impatiently, awaiting her brother and aunt. When they are finally ready, Rhaenys jokes, “Well, now that we have all aged a few years, are we ready?”

Daenerys playfully slaps her niece's shoulder, “Shut up. Just because you don’t care about your hair doesn’t me we have to follow your example. And yes, we are ready.”

The three Targaryens walk to the door to their chambers, Haeron pushing it open. Ser Jamie stands on the other side, his back against the wall. He nods respectfully to the three of them. “Good morning, Ser Jamie. Are you ready to set out?”

The golden-haired man nods, “Yes, Your Grace. Ser Arthur and I are ready whenever the three of you are. As is Lord Connington.”

“Excellent. We will leave this evening. Until then, we need to chart the path we will take around Slaver’s Bay. We need to find the Golden Company, and I want us to be efficient in our search. Meet us in the library afternoon.”

Ser Jamie nods. “I will be there, Your Grace.”

Haeron nods and the three Targaryens make their way toward the dining room. They open the door, surprised to not see Lyanna and Rhaella awaiting their arrival. Haeron walks over to his usual seat, selecting a plate and piling food onto it.

The three eat in silence, the manse eerily quiet around them. The sound of utensils clanging against cutlery is the only thing to be heard around them.

They finish quickly and walk out of the manse. Haeron walks ahead of Rhaenys and Daenerys, his longer strides giving him the ability to walk faster than his aunt and sister.

They come to the Dragon’s Lair, Saegar’s massive head coming up to stare at them with his intelligent, cold, golden eyes. His eyes lock on Haeron and he rises up, resting the majority of his weight on his back legs. Even sitting like that, Saegar’s form towers over them, his size blocking the light of the sun from directly reaching them.

Haeron walks up to his dragon, grinning as Saegar lowers his head down to ‘gently’ brush his maw against Haeron’s. If it weren’t for Haeron being used to the dragon’s version of affection, he would have been knocked off of his feet. However, he is prepared for it, and for the most part, is able to hold his ground.

He places his left hand on the scales beneath Saegar’s jaw, running his right hand down his dragon’s foreleg. “ _Iksi jāre naejot henujagon kesīr aderī, Saegar_ (We are going to leave here soon, Saegar).” He tells his dragon in Valyrian. “ _Iksi kessa rhaenagon naejot gūrogon arlī skoros iksis īlva's lēda perzys ānogār._ (We are will begin to take back what is our’s with fire and blood).”

A rumble leaves his dragon’s chest, the sound shaking his body. Haeron laughs, “I am ready too, my friend. We will finally be able to test out what you, Rhaegon, and Baleria are capable of. To remind the world why dragons are the most feared creatures to ever walk this Earth.”

Saegar growls loudly, shaking his head briefly. This action throws Haeron’s hand off of Saegar’s maw. The massive dragon raises his head, golden eyes narrowing as it looks at something out of Haeron’s range of vision.

Haeron shares a confused look with Rhaenys and Daenerys as Baleria and Rhaegon do the same, all three dragons beginning to growl. “ _Skoros iksis ziry, Saegar?_ (What is it, Saegar)” Haeron asks, straining to see what the dragons do.

He quickly walks to his dragon’s foreleg resting on the ground and climbs up it, settling himself on Saegar’s back. The golden dragon beats his wings, flying up into the sky in a flurry of sand and ash.

Haeron’s eyes are far better than the vision he possessed as Harry Potter, so he trains his eyes on the horizon. He is joined a moment later by Daenerys and Rhaenys on their own respective dragons.

Haeron allows Saegar to guide him, choosing to trust in his dragon’s decisions. His body is tense, wondering what could draw the furious sounds emitting from the mouths’ of the three dragons.

Then, he sees it. For a moment, he shakes his head in an attempt to clear his vision, second-guessing what he sees. However, as the dragons continue to draw closer, he realizes beyond a shadow of a doubt that what he is seeing is real.

Saegar flies higher, his black and gold wings beating as he glides up above the clouds that hang in the sky. Haeron doesn’t even notice the cool moisture from the cloud as they fly through it, his mind far too occupied.

He can’t see Daenerys or Rhaenys and his heart races. The sound of hoofbeats fills the air as thousands upon thousands of Dothraki riders race toward the Targaryen Manse. The Earth rumbles with the passing of the feared force, their numbers creating clouds of dust as they pass.

Yells fill the air and Saegar glides out of the clouds. Haeron’s eyes widen in shock as he watches the Dothraki arrive at a small town around twenty miles away from the manse. The Dothraki Hoard is barely even affected by the small loss in number as some Dothraki stay behind to loot the town.

Haeron watches as the majority of the Hoard continues its way toward their home and their family.

He leans in closer to Saegar’s scales and cries out, “ _Jikagon, saegar! Jikagon!_ (Go, Saegar! Go!)”

The wingbeats from Saegar’s massive form become faster, eating up distance as they reach the town. Haeron glances down, his eyes making out a Dothraki rider slicing a man’s throat from on horseback, never even stopping his horse. Blood spurts into the air, a scream of pain reaching Haeron’s enhanced ears.

He hesitates for a brief moment before yelling out to Daenerys and Rhaenys, “I’m going for the town! You two try and divert the Hoard away from the manse and back in this direction. We need to find the Khal. The only way to end this fight is to defeat the Khal in front of his blood-riders. ”

They both nod, both extremely worried about Rhaella and Lyanna. Haeron watches as Baleria and Rhaegon race toward the manse before turning his focus back to the small town. Saegar releases a roar as smoke begins to rise from the village beneath them, cries of pain and horror still filling the air.

Rather than having Saegar land as the massive dragon would have a hard time making out friend from foe, Haeron apparates to the ground. He appears a few hundred feet away from the town and begins to race toward it, his long strides eating up the distance between him and the town.

He draws his sword from his back as he approaches, his purple eyes alight with power as he begins to channel a small amount of magic into his movements. He takes a deep breath as he reaches the outskirts of the town, his eyes finding a Dothraki rider hovering over a woman. The woman is screaming from fear, her eyes dancing in search of an escape.

Haeron runs faster, his eyes narrowing in fury as the Dothraki slaps his hand across the woman’s face, shoving her onto the ground. Haeron runs even faster, his movements becoming a blur.

He can see the Dothraki begin to touch the woman, whimpers still leaving her lips as the buildings around them burn.

He prepares his sword, switching it into his right hand. The moment he reaches the Dothraki and the woman, he swings the sword in a deadly arc, removing the man’s head.

Blood spurts out of the man’s neck, some of it landing on the woman where she cowers on the ground. Haeron smiles softly at her, lowering himself down onto a knee. “You are okay, now. I am not here to hurt you. Try and find somewhere to hide. I will be unable to protect you from the Dothraki at the moment.”

The woman nods hesitantly and Haeron holds out his hand. She carefully accepts it and Haeron pulls her to her feet. The woman sends him a brief smile before racing toward the edge of town. Haeron smiles, happy to have saved the woman from her horrible fate.

His smile vanishes when a Dothraki rider on horseback appears from the smoke clouding most of the town from view and removes the woman’s head from her body.

Haeron’s eyes light up with fury, his right hand squeezing the grip of his blade as he glares daggers at the man. It takes a moment for the Dothraki to see him before the man turns his horse toward Haeron.

Haeron spreads his feet, lowering himself into a ready position. His eyes narrow briefly and before the Dothraki can react, he apparates onto the horse behind the man, his sword impaling through the rider’s back.

Blood travels down the sword, dripping onto Haeron’s hands. The smell of death fills his nose as he briefly closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath, doing his best to accept the lives he is having to take.

He sees a larger group of Dothraki appear from the smoke, two of them holding women by their hair as they walk toward the edge of town. Haeron notices one of them holding a girl that can’t be older than he was as Harry Potter and his blood runs hot. “I don’t think so, motherfuckers!” Haeron calls out, his eyes still alight with fury.

The group of eight Dothraki men turn to look at him, their eyes narrowing in confusion when they see him. Haeron eggs on the horse, racing it toward the men.

He presses himself to the brown horse’s back, his sword still held in his grasp. The moment he is in range, he leaps off of the horse’s back. His sword slashes through the air, slicing across one of the Dothraki’s chest. He lands, rolling to avoid a slash from an arakh. The curved blade slices through the air above Haeron’s head.

Haeron rises to his feet, his height drawing surprised looks from the Dothraki. His silver hair flows down his shoulders, the fire reflecting off the silver strands. “Where is your Khal?” Haeron demands.

None of the Dothraki respond, choosing instead to attack him. The three holding the females do not move to attack him, probably assuming he won’t stand a chance.

The man who he sliced across the chest is still standing, but he sways slightly on his feet. Haeron’s purple eyes narrow even further, “I will not ask again. Where is your Khal?”

Still no response. A roar shakes the ground and Haeron looks up. Saegar appears from the smoke clouding the sky, landing a few yards away from them. The Dothraki look at the great creature in trepidation and fear as it stalks toward them. Haeron grins at his dragon. “Let’s try this again. Release these women and take me to your Khal. Otherwise, you will burn.”

The Dothraki swap between him and his dragon, the three holding the women and girl not making any move to release them. “Have it your way,” Haeron mutters as Saegar reaches them.

“ _Saegar, nektogon!_ (Saegar, cut!)” Haeron orders. The massive dragon raises one claw before lowering it. The sharp claw slices through three of the men making to attack Haeron. The sight is brutal.

Saegar’s claw is wide so as it sliced through their bodies, it separated everything. Blood and guts cover the ground. Haeron grimaces before turning back to look at the remaining five Dothraki. “Last chance. Release these women and tell me where your Khal is.”

The men still remain silent, and before Haeron can act, the two holding the woman slice their throats.

The squelching sound of the serrated steel slicing through flesh and the carotids in the women’s neck fills the air. Haeron watches as the women collapse to the dirt, never even getting a chance to scream in pain.

Haeron acts before the Dothraki holding the little girl can. The man is out of reach of his sword so Haeron wills his magic to bring the man closer to him.

In a flash, the man is dragged forward to kneel at his feet. Haeron feels no mercy as he removes the man’s head from the body. Without looking up, Haeron orders, “ _Saegar, ossēnagon mēre hen zirȳ yn henujagon se tolie_ (Saegar, kill one of them but leave the other.)”

Haeron lowers himself down onto a knee, looking at the little girl where she cowers against the dirt. He hears a brief grunt of pain but still doesn’t look up. He reaches down, placing a gentle hand on the girl’s back. “Hey.” He says in a quiet voice. “I will not hurt you.”

The girl slowly looks up at him, brown eyes filled with fear meeting his purple ones. The girl sees something passed him and a cry of fear leaves her lips. Haeron turns around briefly, noticing Saegar hovering over him. He sighs, gesturing with one hand for his dragon to move away a bit. The dragon hesitates for a moment before obeying his command.

Haeron reaches out with his magic, locking the remaining Dothraki in place. He sheathes his sword in the holster on his back. He turns his focus back to the little girl at his feet, reaching down to pull her to her feet. “Come now, little one. Nothing will hurt you now.”

The little girl looks up at him and Haeron can see her confusion. “You can’t understand me, can you?”

The little girl continues to look up at him, her brown eyes not showing any sign of recollection. The little girl coughs briefly before collapsing to the ground unmoving.

Haeron’s eyes widen and he quickly reaches down to touch her pulse. The pulse is weak, slow. He picks up the girl, realizing that the smoke could be extremely harmful to her.

He carries her away from the burning village, the girl’s pale skin and black hair covered in grey ash. Saegar beats his wings and Haeron turns toward his dragon. Without spoken word, the dragon makes its way toward him. Haeron jumps up onto his dragon’s back, summoning the still-frozen man with him. Saegar beats his wings, quickly ascending into the sky.

As they gain altitude, Haeron’s sharp eyesight finds the Targaryen Manse and he notices that flames rise from it. The little girl in his arms still does not move, her body barely weighing anything.

Haeron makes out a circle to one side of the manse, Baleria, and Rhaegon standing to one side of it. He makes out Rhaenys standing before her dragon, sword already drawn.

Saegar races toward the manse, his wingbeats drawing the attention of the Dothraki beneath them. Saegar reaches the manse in a matter of minutes and Haeron hops down. He walks over to Daenerys’ side and asks, “What is going on?”

She turns to look at him, taking in his blood-soaked and ash-covered appearance. Her eyes find the little girl in his arms, widening in confusion. “Rhae has challenged the Khal to single combat and the Khal has agreed. He will be here soon as he went to prepare.”

Haeron nods, “I am surprised he agreed. The Dothraki definitely don’t value female strength.”

Daenerys laughs, “Rhae didn’t give him much of a choice. She killed two of his blood-riders and then called him weak.”

Haeron smiles, “That does sound like Rhae.”

The sounds coming from the hundreds of Dothraki grow louder as a tall, muscular man with a black braid hanging down one of his shoulders appears from the crowd. He is flanked by three others, all of them looking at Rhaenys in disgust.

The Khal enters the open circle, drawing his sword. Rhaenys makes no move to draw a weapon.

“Where are the King’s Guard, mother, and grandmother?” Haeron asks.

Daenerys points toward the hills that lead away from the manse, “They escaped the burning manse a little while ago and made for the hills. We can meet up with them in a few minutes.”

Haeron nods, returning his focus to where his sister glares at the Khal. A woman is dragged forward from the crowd, a rope tied around her neck. The Khal barks an order at the woman and the woman flinches, terror filling her expression. The Khal begins to speak again, his voice gravely and rough.

In a trembling voice, the woman begins to speak, “This is Khal Jommo, son of Bargo.” She begins. “He says that he will give the…woman a chance to surrender and he will let her live. He will also let the silver-haired woman live and take her as his Khaleesi. She will bear his child. He asks why the silver-haired man plans to allow this woman to fight for him and mocks him for being a coward.”

With each word, Haeron and Daenerys grow angrier and angrier. Saegar, Baleria, and Rhaegon mimic this, growls leaving their mouths. Haeron steps forward, “Tell this…Khal Jommo that I think he the coward. He does not wish to fight against my sister and is trying to make it seem as though he stands a chance. Tell him that when he dies, his khalasar will become ours. Tell him that any of his men who try and do anything to stop us will meet the same fate as he is about to.”

The woman’s eyes widen and she slowly begins to repeat his words to the Khal. The man looks at Haeron in fury, his nostrils flaring. “Khal Jommo would like me to tell you that because of your insubordination, he will let his blood-riders have your sister to fuck. He will take the silver-haired woman and fuck her until there is nothing left. He will put a child inside her and once she bears it, he will kill her. He will kill the girl in your arms; if the little thing is even still alive.”

The dragons behind them roar with fury as Daenerys, Rhaenys, and Haeron grow angrier than they ever have before. The smell of smoke fills Haeron’s nostrils as the manse continues to burn behind them.

Daenerys is the one to speak this time. “Tell this Khal that he is dealing with something out of his realm. He is dealing with dragons.” Daenerys gestures to the three massive dragons behind them. “And that my niece will kill him more quickly than he finishes inside a woman.”

Haeron looks at Daenerys in surprise at those words, meeting her purple eyes with his own. The woman translates Daenerys’ words and it seems that the Khal has had enough.

He leaps into the circle, sword drawn. Rhaenys still makes no move to draw her sword from the sheathe on her back, placing her hands together. Haeron and Daenerys share a look at their lover’s cocky actions.

The Khal rushes toward Rhaenys, sending an extremely powerful blow from his arakh toward Rhaenys’ head. In the blink of an eye, Rhaenys draws her sword from its place at her back and blocks the blow while holding the sword with only one hand. . The Khal’s eyes widen in disbelief as he stares down at Rhaenys.

The Khal leaps back to avoid a strike from Rhaenys as she swings a dagger with her unoccupied left hand. He looks at Rhaenys in a new light and begins to cautiously circle her.

Rhaenys leaps toward him, feinting a blow with her dagger before slicing across the Khal’s right arm with her sword. The blade draws a thin line of blood and the Khal takes a moment to look at it in disbelief.

He rushes toward Rhaenys, his arakh slicing through the air. Rhaenys sidesteps the blow and in one quick movement, plunges the blade of her dagger through Khal Jommo’s left eye.

The man’s movements stop, his sword arm becoming limp. Blood pours from the wound and down his dark skin as he collapses to the ground. With a short movement of Rhaenys’ right hand, the Khal’s body flies through the air toward Rhaegon. Rhaegon catches the body in his jaws, the sound of bones crunching filling the air.

For a brief moment, there is only silence. Then, the blood-riders race toward Rhaenys. Before they can get close to her, Baleria releases a brief jet of flame. The three men die slowly, the scorching heat from the flame burning their skin off of their bodies. A moment later, their skeletons fall to the ground, scorched black.

Silence falls over the Dothraki once more as they all look at the Targaryens in shock. Haeron looks to the woman with the rope around her neck and says, “Translate this.”

The woman nods. Without the woman’s knowledge, Haeron mutters, “ _Sonorous._ ”

He begins to speak, “Tell them that I am Haeron Targaryen, son of the Silver Prince and the She-Wolf.”

The woman does as she is told, her voice ringing out over the thousands of Dothraki. Rhaenys adds, “Tell them, I am Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of the Silver Prince and the Viper Princess.”

“Tell them that I am Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of the Silver Queen and the King of Fire.”

The woman does as she is told and then Haeron begins to speak again. “Tell them that if they wish to continue to fight with us, they will be met with the fire of death. Tell them that we are taking Khal Jommo’s place and anyone who doesn’t like this can step forward. Now.”

No one makes a move to step forward. “Tell them that if they wish to live, they will bend the knee here and now. Those who do not will face death.”

For a moment after the woman translates, nothing happens and Haeron prepares to order Saegar to test out his fire. Then, as if sensing the danger, the Dothraki Hoard begins to bow before them. Starting with the men on the ground already. Then, the men on horseback, step down, lowering themselves onto a knee. Soon, all but a few are on their knees.

“Those who will not kneel, step forward.” Haeron orders, the woman translating his words.

A group of twenty or so men step forward in defiance. “Let this serve as a final warning. Those who decide that defying us is a better option to bending the knee will pay the ultimate sacrifice.”

Haeron doesn’t even look at his dragon as he order, “ _Saegar, dracarys!”_

The sound of an inhale behind him symbolizes the massive dragon preparing to release his fire and then a moment later, the black and gold flames erupt over Haeron, Daenerys, and Rhaenys. The flames engulf the men, hiding them from view as Saegar continues to release more.

When the dragon stops, the smoke takes a moment to clear. When it does, there is nothing left of the twenty men who had stood their moments before. The only sign that they ever existed is a few flecks of ask that hang in the air.

The girl in Haeron’s arms stirs slightly, the movement drawing his attention. A cough leaves the girl’s mouth, the sound rough. Blood being expelled by the cough. “Muña…” The little girl says softly.

Haeron’s eyes widen, “ _Skoros iksis aōha muña's brōzi, byka mēre?_ (What is your mother's name, little one?)”

The little girl looks up at him, her brown eyes barely possessing any sign of life. Another cough wracks the girl’s body and she collapses backward. Daenerys is at Haeron’s side in a heartbeat, her eyes filled with concern.

She presses her fingers to the girl’s neck, slowly shaking her head. “She is gone.”  
Haeron looks at the little girl in shock, not having expected to lose the little thing. He closes his eyes briefly before shaking his head. “I will bury her. She deserves that at least.”

Daenerys nods, “I am sorry, Haeron.”

He shakes his head, “She must have inhaled too much smoke…”

Daenerys nods, “I understand.”

Haeron turns back to the translator, “Tell the khalasar that we will be back in a few hours and that they can make camp here. Trying to run will result in us killing them all.”

The translator nods and repeats his words.

Haeron spares the little girl’s body a sad look as he walks to Saegar’s side. The dragon leans down, allowing Haeron to easily climb onto his back.

With a few powerful wingbeats, Saegar flies up into the air and toward the hills. Rhaegon and Baleria follow a few moments later.

They soon can make out the King’s Guard and their parents sheltering against a grassy hill a few miles from the manse. The three land and Haeron gently carries the little girl’s body toward his mother.

Lyanna and Rhaella race toward them the moment they see them, eyes filled with concern. Lyanna takes in her son’s tattered, blood-soaked appearance and she asks, “What happened?”

**_Location: The Road to Starfall, Dorne. Time: Continuation(1x01)._ **

**——Jon Sand POV——**

Jon brings his hands up to his lips, the water cupped in them soothing his parched throat. The sun beats down on him as he reaches down, dipping his hands in the rushing water again.

The cool liquid is a welcome relief to his dry and sun-burnt skin after only one day of riding. His mother kneels at his side, splashing water against her face. The horse is tied to a tree next to them as it gulps down water of its own.

“Mother, what happens if we can’t find water while we ride?” Jon can’t help but ask.

Ashara sighs, “You don’t need to worry about that, Jon. I know where water is on the road to Starfall so we can stop and get it when we need it.”

Jon nods, splashing water against his own face. The two walk back over to the horse and Jon climbs up after his mother. They set off once more.

“Mother, what will your family think of me?” Jon asks.

“They will love you, Jon. They will be happy to meet you. Don’t doubt that. Dorne won’t care about your illegitimate birth. My family will be overjoyed to see you.” Ashara responds. “Just remember what I said. Tell no one who your father is.”

“Haven’t you told me that I look just like my father?” Jon asks. “Won’t they recognize me?”

“Not many of my family have seen Ned, but you are correct. Once we get more settled it is likely that we will have to reveal who your father is. I don’t want that to happen because if it does, it is likely Ned will find out.” Ashara says.

“What would be so bad about my father learning about me?”

“That wouldn’t be bad at all. But your father is too damn honorable for his own good. He will want to be involved with you and that in turn would draw Catelyn Tully into all of this. That woman, from what I have heard, is very set in the Faith of the Seven. She would likely hate you merely because of your father’s infidelity to her.” Ashara responds. “But she would be wrong. You were conceived before he married her. Yes, you are still a bastard. But she would see you as a sin on her husband’s name.”

Jon nods in understanding, “What is your family like? Is there anyone around my age?”

“Most of my family is gone,” Ashara responds. “My brother…he died protecting Rhaegar. He was the Silver Prince’s sworn King’s Guard. However, I am sure House Martell will have a few around your age. I honestly don’t know as I haven’t been here in seventeen years. A lot has likely changed.”

“I understand, mother,” Jon responds as the horse carries them toward Starfall.

**_Location: Winterfell, the North. Time: Continuation(1x01)._ **

**——Eddard Stark POV——**

Ned sits on his bed, his eyes downcast. His eyes stare at nothing as he contemplates all that has happened. “ _I don’t have a choice, do I? I have to accept Robert’s offer. I cannot allow him to make Tywin the Hand as I am sure his daughter has advised Robert to do. The last thing Robert needs is a manipulative, cunning hand._ ”

He is interrupted from his thoughts by Catelyn entering. She takes in his appearance and walks over to his side, “What is it, Ned? What has happened?”

Ned sighs, “I have to accept it, Cat. I have to.”

Catelyn frowns, “Accept what, Ned?” She asks before her eyes fill with realization. “No, Ned you can’t…You can’t. It is far too dangerous.”

Ned shakes his head, “I have no choice, Cat. Robert needs me.”

Catelyn’s eyes turn cold, “Ned, why is it that you are always so eager to help that man?”

Ned’s eyes darken, “Excuse me?” He questions. “I am far from eager to help that man. Robert is far from what he once was, Cat. Far from it. However, he is correct that he needs me.”

“Ned, why does he need you? Couldn’t he choose someone else?”

“Yes. That is my worry. Cat, if he doesn’t choose me, it is extremely likely he will choose Tywin. I can’t let that happen.”

His wife’s eyes fill with realization, “I…I understand.”

Ned rises to his feet, taking his wife’s hands into his own calloused palms. “Cat, I need you to promise me something.”

“What?” She questions.

“I want you to promise me that if anything happens to me, you will not act rashly. By acting rashly, you will be causing problems. I need you to take care of our family and make sure Robb doesn’t either.”

Cat’s eyes widen, “Ned…promise me you won’t let anything happen to yourself. I cannot lose you. I can’t.”

“I am sorry, Cat. You know I can’t promise that. I can’t.”

Catelyn opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, a knock at the door stops them. “Forgive the interruption, Lord Stark. Something has happened.”

Ned walks to the door, opening it. “What is it, Ser Rodrik? What has happened?”

The man sighs, “It’s the Young Lord Bran, my lord. He fell from the Old Tower.”

A horrified gasp leaves Catelyn’s lips and Ned’s body tenses. “Does he live?”

“For the moment, my lord.” The man responds.

“ _How did Bran fall?”_ Ned asks himself. “ _He is impressively consistent at climbing and I have never even seen him slip before…_ ”

**A/N.**

**I am so sorry for how long it took to publish this chapter. I have been super busy with school.**

**Thank you to all of those who have patiently awaited an update and I hope you enjoyed this first action-filled chapter.**

**——**

**Explanations:**

**I have planned for a while for the Dothraki storyline as it leads to what I need to happen. The Golden Company will still make an appearance, though it will be much further down the line.**

**The combat is mediocre at best and I apologize for that. I struggled to write the combat in a way I liked.**

**This chapter showcases the callous mindset that the Targaryen Trio now possess, displaying their willingness to kill those who would be against them.**

**Ashara and Jon discussing Jon’s father and what would happen if he found out is a possible scenario for the future. I am not saying that that is what will happen, however.**

**Yes, sadly, Bran was pushed from the Old Tower once more. His storyline is necessary for later in this story to make certain gears turn.**

**As I said in the last chapter, more on Cersei’s infidelity will be revealed eventually, though still not for a little while.**


	15. Chapter Fifteen(Phase-One)

**Chapter Fifteen(The King’s Hand)**

* * *

**_Location: Targaryen Manse, Essos. Time: Continuation(1x02)._ **

**——Haeron Targaryen POV——**

Haeron gently sets down the little girl’s body, laying it atop a small bed of white flowers growing in the sandy, hard ground. He reaches up, closing her brown eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He lowers his head for a brief moment, closing his eyes. “ _Kostagon ao ilinītsos isse lyks (_ May you rest in peace),” he mutters, a sigh easing its way past his lips.

Behind him, his mother rests her hand on his shoulder. “Can you explain what happened now? Where did you find this poor girl?”

Haeron rises to his feet, taking one last glance at the little girl. “Hen perzys iksi āzma, se naejot perzys ao āmāzinon (From fire we are born, and to fire, you return).”

He takes a few steps back, his purple eyes glimmering sadly. “ _Dracarys._ ”

Black and gold flames engulf the little girl's body, returning her to the void from which all life originates. “I wanted to bury her…” Haeron mutters.

Lyanna places a hand on her son’s shoulder, turning him to face her, “Hae, the ground around her is tough to dig. Besides, that was a burial fit for a king.”

Haeron nods slowly, turning around. He sees Saegar looking at him from his perch on the hill above them, tendrils of smoke wreathing their way out of his maw. He notices the King’s Guard and his grandmother looking at him and walks over to stand next to Daenerys and Rhaenys.

“Now, will you tell us what happened?” Rhaella asks.

Daenerys is the first to speak, “Of course, mother. We were waiting for Hae.” She pauses. “I am sure you all are aware of just how dangerous the Dothraki can be.”

Nods come from the King’s Guard, Lyanna, and Rhaella. “Well, the Dothraki attacked a town around twenty miles from here and began to loot it.”

Haeron picks up the story, “I saw the Dothraki murdering innocents from Saegar’s back and I could not let that happen. I apparated to the ground a few hundred feet from the village, planning to make my way to it after scouting the surroundings.”

Lyanna’s eyes widen, “You thought it wise to fight the Dothraki?”

Haeron rolls his eyes, “Oh please, mother. They pose no threat to us with our magically enhanced movements.” He shakes his head. “Well, back to what happened. I found a woman being raped by a Dothraki rider. I raced to save her and killed the man raping her.”

Lyanna brings a hand up to her mouth, eyes wide at the prospect that her son has taken a life.

Haeron continues, “I…I told the woman to run and hide as I wouldn’t be able to protect her in the middle of a fight and she attempted to run. Then…a Dothraki on horseback appeared from the smoke originating from the burning village and cut off the woman’s head. As you can imagine, that displeased me.”

Rhaella nods, “I can see why.”

“Well, I ended up apparating onto the horse carrying the rider and killed that rider, too.” Haeron takes a deep breath, looking down at his hands that still are stained in blood.

Lyanna takes her son’s hands into her own, not caring that some of the blood on her son’s hands rubs off on her own. “Hae, you do know I understand why you killed them? I would have done the same if I was capable of it.”

Haeron nods slowly, pulling his hands out of his mother’s. He mutters, “ _Scourgify_ ,” and the blood vanishes, leaving his skin as pale as ever. He does the same to his mother’s hands.

“Then,” he continues. “I saw a group of eight Dothraki dragging a few women and…and the little girl you just watched me burn, with them. I rode the horse toward them. I jumped off the horse’s back and slashed one of the men across the chest whole in the air. I landed and demanded that they tell me where their Khal was and that they release the women. They refused.”  
He pauses, trailing his eyes across his grandmother and mother to check their reactions. “Saegar landed behind me and again, I demanded that they release the women and tell me where their Khal was. Once more, they refused. Three of the men made to attack me so I ordered…” he hesitates, wondering whether or not to be honest about the order he gave.

“What did you have Saegar do?” Rhaella asks.

“I told him one word. _Nektogon,_ ” Haeron states, noting the surprised looks on Daenerys and Rhaenys.

Rhaella’s eyes widen in shock, as Lyanna looks confused. “What does that word mean? What did Saegar do?”

“It means slice,” Rhaella informs her, her eyes glimmering with concern as she looks at Haeron.

Haeron nods, “Yes, Saegar sliced the three men who were going to attack me in half.”

“Hae…” Lyanna begins.

Haeron shakes his head, “Don’t start, mother. You weren’t there. The situation was kill or be killed and I didn’t want to die. Saegar’s fire is too hot. It wouldn’t have hurt me but it could have hurt the little girl.” He takes a calming breath as Daenerys walks over, wrapping one arm around him.

Haeron leans down, taking in Daenerys’ calming scent, though it is tainted with the smell of smoke and blood. He raises his head once more, “Before I could act, the Dothraki holding the two older women sliced their throats. I was able to prevent the man holding the girl from doing the same to her by summoning him to me and killing him. Then, I turned my focus to the little girl and had Saegar deal with the rest. I picked up the girl and climbed onto Saegar’s back. We flew toward the manse and that is where I met up with Dany and Rhae.”

Rhaenys begins to speak, “When we first saw the Dothraki, Haeron told Dany and me to go back to the manse to divert the Hoard away from it so that is what we did. We landed Baleria and Rhaegon right in the path the Dothraki Hoard was taking and Dany had Baleria breathe flame in their path.”

“That was well done. Dragon flame would be hot enough to turn the sand to glass beneath their horse's hooves so they would have had to stop.” Ser Arthur says.

Rhaenys inclines her head. “A man came forward and Dany and I quickly realized that it was the Khal. His blood-riders flanked him. He yelled something to us in what I assume was Dothraki as we couldn’t understand it and when we didn’t answer, he grew angry. Five of his blood-riders attacked us.”

Daenerys steps in, “I killed one with a sword-thrust through the heart and Rhaenys killed two others. Then she challenged the Khal by pointing her sword at him and beckoning for him to approach her. He was furious but got the message and nodded his head in agreement. He walked away for a few minutes and Haeron arrived at that time.”

Rhaenys begins speaking once more, “His men created a semi-circle to be used as an arena of sorts, with half of the circle being occupied by Saegar, Rhaegon, and Baleria. I do not think the Dothraki truly realized the power the dragons possessed as they showed no fear toward them.” She pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “The Khal arrived a few minutes later with a woman who had a rope around her neck. The woman translated what the Khal was saying for us and we responded in kind. The fight started soon after and I killed the Khal.”

Gasps sound from the King’s Guard, Lyanna, and Rhaella, “You…killed the Khal of this Dothraki Hoard?” Lyanna questions.

Rhaenys nods. “May I ask how it was done?” Arthur questions, resting his arm on his knee.

“I let the Khal make the first move, wanting to take note of his fighting style. After he lunged at me, I parried the blow with my own blade. Then, while keeping his arakh occupied with my sword, I sliced at him with a dagger in my off-hand. He backed off after that, seemingly realizing just how much he had underestimated me. I then feigned a strike with my dagger before slicing across his arm. The blow cut deep, nearly incapacitating his arm entirely.”

Arthur nods in approval, “Good. You did not put yourself in any unnecessary danger. I am glad to hear that you took the time to observe his own combat before parrying his blow. How did you finish him?”

“Thank you, Ser,” Rhaenys responds before continuing. “Obviously realizing the danger he was in, he attempted to take me out quickly by rushing at me with his blade swinging. I sidestepped the blow and because he attacked so wildly, he left himself wide-open to a counterattack. I plunged my dagger through his eye and into his brain. He was dead before he hit the ground.”

Arthur nods, “I am impressed, Princess. You took all of your training into consideration and did not overly showboat your power against a lesser opponent.”

Rhaenys nods, “Thank you, Ser Arthur. It is by the grace of your training that I knew what to do.”

Silence falls and the Targaryen Trio exchange glances. Rhaenys decides against telling them about feeding the Khal to Rhaegon and Haeron makes no move to tell them about burning the twenty Dothraki who wouldn’t kneel.

“So, what now?” Rhaella asks. “Have the Dothraki chosen a new Khal and left?”

Haeron shakes his head, “No, grandmother. We are the new leaders of this Dothraki Hoard. They are awaiting our return as we speak.”

Silence greets Haeron’s answer, the King’s Guard and their parents looking at the Targaryen Trio in shock. “The Dothraki…are awaiting you three?” Lyanna asks slowly. “Why did they agree to follow you?”

The three share a look but don’t say anything. “What did you three do?” Rhaella asks, her eyes moving between the three.

Haeron sighs, “We took matters into our own hands. We made it clear that they had no choice but to kneel.”

“I can’t believe I have to ask this, but what did you do?” Lyanna asks, her eyes not leaving her son’s face. “And don’t try to lie to me. You know that I know when you do.”

Daenerys places a hand on Haeron’s shoulder, “We merely showed them the power we possess.”

“You used magic?” Rhaella and Lyanna question at the same time.

Rhaenys shakes her head, her dark hair glimmering in the light of the afternoon sun. “After I won my fight, we ordered the Dothraki to kneel. Then, those that refused met the fate that anyone who denies us will. We burned them.”

Rhaella brings a hand up to her mouth, “How many?” She asks quietly.

Haeron shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter.” He raises a hand as Rhaella goes to speak once more. “Let me finish, grandmother. The number doesn’t matter. Yes, we burned them. Saegar’s flame turned their bodies to ash. As I said, it doesn’t matter. Death is a natural occurrence that everyone can only escape for so long. Unfortunately for the ones we burned, Death caught up with them.”

Lyanna shakes her head, “Hae…How can you talk so callously about the lives you took? You shouldn’t be this emotionless about the lives you ended. I understood killing those at the village that posed a threat to the occupants of the time but why burn those who wouldn’t kneel?”

Haeron cocks his head, “Why? If we didn’t kill them, they would have attempted to kill us. This is a kill or be killed world, mother. As we have discussed before, the dragons have enlightened me, Dany, and Rhae. The motto of our House is not just words. The motto is a warning. Only through Fire and Blood will our House be accepted in Westeros.”

Once more, Haeron holds up a hand to stop both Rhaella and Lyanna from speaking, “I am sorry, mother, grandmother, but we will not apologize for doing what was necessary. I am not eager to take lives; far from it. However, I will not make the same mistakes I did in my last life. Mercy does not win wars.”

Lyanna sighs but slowly nods her head, though Haeron does not miss the concerned look his mother and grandmother share.

Haeron turns back to the King’s Guard, “The Dothraki will be awaiting our return. It seems our plans have changed. The Golden Company can wait now. The Dothraki will do as we say.”

Arthur steps forward, “Yes, Your Grace. What will be the next target?”

Haeron looks at Daenerys and Rhaenys, “We will discuss that later. I assume there will be some things we will have to do to cement our control over the Dothraki. Besides, there are more Dothraki. We need to be careful. This group of Dothraki is far from the largest and because of the way we took control, another Khalasar will likely challenge us.”

Arthur nods and Haeron turns to look at Ser Gerold, “Lord Commander, I need you and Ser Oswell to keep a close eye on my mother and grandmother. The Dothraki aren’t exactly known for their respect of women.”

Ser Gerold nods, “Of course, Your Grace. You need not ask.”

Haeron turns to look at the golden-haired knight. “Ser Jamie, I am going to have you remain near my side over these next few days. The Dothraki will likely still doubt our strength so we may have to display our power once more.”

The Lannister nods, “Yes, Your Grace.”

Daenerys speaks next, “Mormont, you have mentioned that you met the Dothraki briefly on your journey here.” The man nods. “Is there anything you can tell us that will help us control them?”  
The man nods slowly, “There are a few things. I was never actually with them. I merely met a young girl who had escaped the Dothraki. In exchange for me giving her a bit of money to buy travel further away from the Dothraki, she taught me a few of the customs the Dothraki follow.”

Haeron nods, “Good. We will need your help to learn more about the Dothraki later today.”

Mormont nods, “Of course, your grace.”

Haeron turns back to his mother, “Mom, you and grandmother need to promise to be careful. The Dothraki fear the Daenerys, Rhaenys, and I but they have no reason to fear you. I am assigning Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell to protect you.” He takes a step closer to her, looking down into her eyes. “You must promise me that you will not leave their protection.”

Lyanna smiles at her son, ”I promise. I may not like what you did to gain the respect of the Dothraki but I also do not fault you for it. Anyone who knows the Dothraki knows that if anything, they deserved death. I just don’t like to think about _you_ ending lives.”

Haeron nods, turning toward the King’s Guard. “Can you give me a minute with my mother? I need to discuss a few things with her.”

Ser Arthur nods, following after Ser Gerold, Ser Oswell, and Ser Jamie. Jorah Mormont follows after them. Haeron turns back to his mother, taking her small hands into his larger ones. “Mother, I know you agreed not to leave the sight of Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell, but I need more than that. I lost my parents in my first life and do not have a father in this one. I cannot bear to lose you too.”

He reaches into a compartment on the inside of his armor, pulling out a silver chain with a medallion on the end of it. He gently lowers himself down onto one knee to be closer to Lyanna’s height and holds out the medallion. An image of a direwolf is emblazoned into the metal, maw open to display its teeth. “I ask that you wear this.”

Lyanna takes the medallion into her palms, running a finger along the wolf design. “Where did you get this?”

“I created it,” Haeron responds. “I created it with only one purpose in mind. Your protection. I cannot lose you, mother. I can’t.”

“It is beautiful, Hae, but how will this help protect me?” Lyanna asks, continuing to run a finger along the outline of the wolf.

“Mother, this is more than just a metal medallion. I infused it with my own magical signature and enchanted it so that whenever you need my help, I will know. And as a last resort, I placed an enchantment on it so that you can escape whatever trouble you may be in. You have seen Rhaenys, Daenerys, and I apparate at times. Well, that is basically what this would allow you to do.”

Lyanna’s eyes widen, emotion glimmering within them. “This is a very thoughtful gift, my son. But what about your grandmother? I could not in good conscience take this, knowing she could still be in danger.”

Haeron smiles, “Dany is giving her mother the same gift as I am giving you. I would never forget her. But mother…”

Lyanna frowns in worry at her son’s sudden change in demeanor. She moves forward, placing a kiss on her son’s brow where he kneels before her. “What is it, Hae? What is troubling you, my son?”

“The magic on this medallion that would allow you to escape a situation is only strong enough for one use. Once you use it to escape a situation by coming to me, there would be nothing else it could do for you.” Haeron says, voice low.

“What are you saying, Hae?” Lyanna asks. “What has you so worried?”

Haeron sighs, reaching up with one hand to run it through his silver hair. “I worry that during a battle, you could be in danger. If that happens and you decide to use the power of the medallion, it would take you to me…” Haeron pauses. “Do you see the problem now?”

“You worry that I could end up in the middle of a battle and that you would be unable to protect me in such an occurrence,” Lyanna states, understanding glimmering in her silver depths. “Hae…If such a thing were ever to happen, which I pray it won’t, then you need to remember to protect yourself first and foremost. You will be the one in the middle of a battle.”

“No,” Haeron states stubbornly. “I will not risk your life by trying to protect my own. If ever a situation like this arises, I would likely try and get you to Saegar for safety. He knows how much you mean to me.”

“Hae…” Lyanna tries.

“I will not hear it, mother. You and grandmother are the ones I worry the most about. Yes, I care a great deal for Daenerys and Rhaenys, but I also know that they can take care of themselves. They have Baleria and Rhaegon to look after them if they need it, they can fight as well as anyone on this planet, and they can use magic. You and grandmother cannot combat some of the danger we will likely face.” Haeron continues.

Lyanna sighs, “Fine. How does the medallion work?”

“I will be able to sense when you are in danger. The enchantments on the medallion will allow me to track your location if you cannot use it to get to me and I can come to you. Now, I am telling you this under the agreement that you will never waste the lone use to get to me. I know you are smarter than that, but it took a lot of magic to create the enchantments so I will not be able to create a new one. My magical signature is tied to this one and is not removable.” Haeron states.

Lyanna nods, “I understand, my son. I will never use it unless it is a complete necessity.”  
Haeron nods, “Good. To bring you to me, you will need to say a verbal…passcode, if you will. To activate its teleportation feature, all you have to say is _sōnar kesīr issa._ ”

Lyanna nods, repeating the phrase. “What does it mean?”  
Haeron sighs, “It means ‘winter is here.’ I thought it a good thing to make the password as it isn’t something you should ever have to say in conversation.”  
Lyanna nods, reaching up to tie the silver metal chain on her neck. The medallion hangs down to just above her chest, the silver medallion glimmering brightly. Haeron nods at the sight, rising back to his full height. “Thank you, mother. This greatly helped my stress over your safety.”

Lyanna nods, “I should be the one thanking you. This is a very thoughtful gift.” Lyanna holds out her arms invitingly.

Haeron steps into her embrace, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment. He can feel her breath against his neck, her small body pressed against his own. The sun rises higher into the sky, the heat becoming more and more painful to endure. When mother and son finally separate, Haeron’s eyes find Rhaenys where she stands away from Dany and Rhaella.

He looks down at his mom and she nods, gesturing for him to go to her. He walks toward his sister with quick, purposeful strides, stopping at her side. He gently reaches down to take her right hand into his left, squeezing it. She shakes herself, turning to look at him. She smiles at him, “Did Aunt Lyanna like her gift?”  
Haeron nods, “Yes, but that is not why I am here.”

He pulls Rhaenys against him in a quick movement, her height making Haeron not have to bend over to embrace her. He places his arms all the way around her, resting them on her back. At that action, the usually stoic, serious, tough Rhaenys breaks down in her brother’s arms.

He holds her more tightly to him, doing his best to make her feel the love he has for her. His lips brush against her ear and he whispers, “I am so sorry, Rhaenys.”

Her sobs become more severe, the action racking her body. Haeron gently begins to rub circles on her back in an attempt to soothe her. “Those who took your mother, your brother, and our father will pay for what they did. They will suffer.”

Her sobs slowly die down and she eventually exits his embrace. Her eyes glimmer with unshed tears and lines trail down her cheeks from the tears she could not stop. “They will _die._ ” She hisses, voice cold and dark, though Haeron can sense her pain hidden beneath the powerful statement.

Haeron nods in agreement, reaching down to rest a hand against her cheek. She leans into his touch again. “Yes, they will. They will learn that their actions have consequences. They will learn what happens when one challenges the Targaryens. They will learn what comes of attempting to kill _dragons_.”

Rhaenys takes a moment to collect herself and a moment later, Daenerys walks over to them. She does the same as Haeron did, pulling Rhaenys into her arms. Haeron cannot make out what his aunt says to his sister but Rhaenys nods, a small smile appearing on her sullen features.

The Targaryen Trio meet up with Rhaella and Lyanna before setting off toward the King’s Guard. They find the Kings’ Guard beneath an overhang of rock, creating some shade. Arthur has his back against the wall of the cliff of rock, his eyes closed. Ser Jamie has his sword out, running a small stone over the sharpened blade. Ser Jorah sits on the ground against the wall a few yards from Arthur, knees pulled up to his chest.

Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell are both still standing, though Ser Gerold has his back against the rock wall. When they arrive, the King’s Guard all rise to their feet. “Ready, your grace?” Jamie asks.

Haeron nods, “Yes, Ser Jamie. It is time. The Dothraki await our return and we best not keep them waiting.” He gestures for everyone to approach them. “Ser Jamie, Ser Jorah, Ser Arthur, you will come with me. Mother and grandmother, you will go with Rhaenys if she is okay with it.” Rhaenys nods. “And Daenerys, you will take Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold.” She nods.

“Upon our arrival, remember your assignments. Ser Oswell, Ser Gerold, Ser Jorah; do not let my mother and grandmother out of your sight. Ser Jamie, Ser Arthur, you will be with Daenerys, Rhaenys, and I.” Everyone nods, accepting Haeron’s orders.

“Alright, let us go.”

Everyone goes to who they were told two and after a brief check to make sure everyone is ready, they vanish in a flash of light and a brief popping sound.

* * *

When they reappear, they are in the clearing where the fight took place. There are still Dothraki mulling around, obviously awaiting their return. The ground is still scorched in two places, from when Baleria burned the blood riders and where those that wouldn’t kneel met their fates. The smell of burned flesh still fills the air. If anything, the smell is more intense now than it was earlier that day.

As soon as one Dothraki notices them, a cry causes more and more to see their return. They begin to kneel, starting with the men who witnessed their former Khal's deaths and those who disobeyed. The woman who translated earlier is dragged forward by an older Dothraki, a rope still wrapped around her neck. Even covered in dirt and with blood-streaks running over her tanned skin, it is easy to tell the girl is beautiful. However, one side of her face surrounding her right eye is swollen and the skin is wrinkled. Brown hair falls on either side of her head.

Rhaenys’ eyes narrow and a moment later, the rope around the woman’s neck snaps, falling off of her. Rhaenys gestures for the girl to approach and hesitantly, the woman does. Rhaenys kneels, “What is your name?”

“Vaela,” the woman whispers in response, her left eye still flicking around as if she expects danger.

Rhaenys notices that the woman’s right eye does not move and takes in its light blue color. She has to suppress a snarl when she concludes that the girl is blind in one eye, and speaks in a calming voice. “You are safe now, Vaela. We will not harm you.”

The woman nods slowly, her one brown eye meeting Rhaenys’. “Where is your family, Vaela?”

The woman’s features grow sad, “Dead.”

Rhaenys sighs, “I am sorry to hear that. I’ll tell you what; why don’t you become my personal handmaiden? I need someone to help me and you seem like the perfect person for that job.”

Vaela’s good eye widens in shock and disbelief, “Really? You want _me_ to help you? Why?”

Rhaenys sighs again, “I hate seeing others suffer when they don’t have to. Besides, you seem like a smart woman. I could use your knowledge of the Dothraki language to act as a translator and to help me learn the language myself.” Rhaenys gently brushes a hand against the girl’s cheek. “So? What do you say?”

Vaela nods, “Thank you. Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me. No one has ever done something like this for me.”

Rhaenys smiles, “It is of no consequence. Now, may I ask you your age?”

Vaela nods, “I am nineteen years old.”

Rhaenys nods, “And what have the Dothraki done to you?”

Vaela looks down, her hands closing into fists. “I have lost everything at their hands. I lost my family when I was eleven. A few years later, I lost my brother when the Dothraki decided he was too weak to continue his work as a slave. And I lost my maidenhood when I was thirteen to the Khal himself. He decided I fit his taste. When I tried to fight back, he branded the right side of my face and the heat was too much for my eye. I no longer have the use of two good eyes and _he_ took that from me.” 

Haeron overhears that and snarls, he and Daenerys sharing a glance. Rhaenys does her best to hide her fury, placing a hand on Vaela’s shoulder, “You don’t have to fear them again. They won’t dare hurt you whilst you are under my protection.”

Vaela nods, her good brown eye finding Haeron as he walks toward her. She cowers down at his appearance, a thrill of fear flooding her expressions. “It’s okay, Vaela. This is my brother. He would never hurt you. I am Rhaenys, his name is Haeron, and the woman behind him is named Daenerys.”

Vaela nods, “I remember.”

Rhaenys nods, “Good.” She turns to Ser Jorah, Ser Oswell, and Ser Gerold. “Go to the main tent with Queen Lyanna and Queen Rhaella. Protect them. We will be there shortly.”

Rhaenys turns back to Vaela, “We need you with us to translate again. Can you do that? I will not make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Vaela nods slowly, before responding quietly, “Yes, I can do it.”

Rhaenys smiles down at the girl before saying, “Go stand right by that tent. Do not leave my sight.”

Vaela nods and walks over to the tent, her brown eye darting all around her.

Rhaenys turns to Haeron, “I hate that we are going to have to rely on the Dothraki. They have done horrible things to too many people.” She says, clearly thinking about what Vaela said she had to endure.

Daenerys responds in Haeron’s steed, “I agree, Rhaenys. And once we get what we need from them, we can make a better decision on their existence. But for now, we need them. And we cannot pretend like raping and pillaging in something that only the Dothraki do. Most of the males on this planet would likely rape me if given the chance."

“Which they never will be,” Haeron mutters.

Daenerys smiles at him before continuing, “Besides, the Dothraki have a better sense for war than we do at the moment. Most of them have likely been in many battles before now. We will need their experience.”

“Well, if you can count them pillaging and burning cities that have to stand aside and watch, then yes.” Haeron sneers, eyes flickering around the camp. “However, they are not used to challenges. Most cities surrender the moment they see the Dothraki approaching. That doesn’t exactly build character. That creates arrogance and a sense of false immunity. Many Dothraki likely think themselves stronger than they actually are.”

Rhaenys nods, “Exactly. We may want to attempt to figure out which Dothraki we can trust. It is probably a good idea to have representatives amongst the Dothraki other than Vaela if she does agree to help me. We need someone with experience in a more powerful position.”

Daenerys nods, “I agree. However, I do not know how likely it is to find a loyal Dothraki. Most of them care about blood, sex, and…well, violence. I doubt we will find a Dothraki who is willing to adhere to our leadership. Unless we can find a way to make it seem as though we are giving them more than we are…”

Haeron nods thoughtfully, “Such as allowing them more leeway during our invasion of the Slaver’s Bay cities. They will likely not like following such strict guidelines.”

Rhaenys sighs, “Haeron, how would that work? That would likely just lead to more women getting raped and more children getting killed. We are invading, not massacring.”

Haeron nods, a sigh leaving his parched lips, “You’re right. However, as much as we want them to, I doubt we will have any luck in attempting to change the way the Dothraki act. We will do our best to keep raping and murdering at a low, but we cannot forget that we are invading which is an act of war. War involves deaths that should not happen and actions that would be considered heinous under any other circumstance.” He shakes himself. “We will think of something. For now, we need to address the Dothraki. They are getting restless.”

Daenerys and Rhaenys nod in agreement, looking at the crowd of eyes staring back at them. Rhaenys beckons Vaela back over to them, the girl walking carefully toward them. “Are you ready?” Rhaenys asks.

Vaela nods. Haeron faces her, Haeron steps forward, deciding against using magic to enhance his voice. “Listen, and listen well,” Haeron says, Vaela echoing every word in Dothraki. “You all know what happens to those that disobey us. You say what we did to your Khal and his blood riders. They were not martyrs. Their deaths should not embolden you to move against us again. I will make this clear once. If you attempt to defy us, if you attempt to disobey orders, even if you attempt to run from us, you will die. Make no mistake, every attempt at defiance will be met with death.”

Daenerys steps forward, “Do not think that because I am a woman, I could not kill any one of you. If we hear any rumors of any of you plotting to commit treason, we will not hesitate to kill you all. You must all understand that, as he…” She gestures at Haeron. “…said, defiance will be met with death.”

Daenerys stops and Rhaenys turns to Vaela, beginning to speak, “If any more of you have doubts about our power or wish to request different positions in this new hierarchy, step forward. Now.”

Vaela’s voice echoes for a few moments over the desolate, sandy wasteland before dying out.

No Dothraki make any move to step forward and Haeron nods, “Excellent. You may leave us. Be back here tonight at nightfall. That is when we will inform you of what is to happen next. And remember, we will know if you attempt anything, and death will find you.”

Vaela echoes every word once more, stopping when Haeron does. Rhaenys smiles at her, “Thank you, Vaela. You did well.”

“Thank you…What would you like me to call you, my lady?” Vaela asks softly, her right-hand twitching.

Rhaenys smiles and shakes her head, “ _My lady_ is fine, Vaela. Thank you. You can come with us, now. We will get you a tent close to us.”

Vaela nods, gratitude shining in her one good eye. “Thank you, my lady. I will never be able to repay you for this fully.”

Rhaenys shakes her head, “It is of no consequence. I am just sorry for what you have had to endure.”

Haeron walks over to stand at Rhaenys’ side from where he had stood a few yards away, “Thank you, Vaela. You did perfectly.”

Vaela nods timidly, seemingly still uncomfortable about his presence. Haeron sighs internally, knowing he will have to prove that he is someone she can trust unless he wants his sister’s new handmaiden cowering every time she sees him.

He turns and begins to walk, gesturing for Ser Arthur and Ser Jamie to follow them from where they stood near a large rock. The two men walk over to them, hands still not leaving their swords where they hand at their sides. Haeron and Daenerys walk side by side at the front of the group, with Rhaenys lagging behind a bit to stay with Vaela. The two members of the King’s Guard walk just behind them.

They make their way through the maze of tents until they come to a larger one. They push open the tent flap, entering one at a time. Ser Oswell turns to look at them from his spot on a wooden chair, Ser Gerold standing just inside the entrance. Haeron’s purple eyes find his mother and grandmother sitting at a different wooden table, whispering inaudibly to one-another.

Rhaenys states quietly, “I am going to go arrange a tent for Vaela. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Haeron nods, smiling softly at Vaela as she looks cautiously around the room. He cannot help the flare of anger he feels at the burned skin on the right side of her face and the dead blue eye accompanying it. He cannot help but wish the Khal died more agonizingly.

As if sensing his thoughts, Daenerys places a hand on his shoulder, “I know, Hae. The Khal didn’t deserve the quick death he received.”

Haeron sighs, “Am I that easy to read?”

Daenerys chuckles softly, “No. I just know you well enough to follow your thought process.”

Haeron chuckles with her, “Fair enough.”

He turns his attention back to the other occupants of the tent, raising his voice to draw their attention. “Forgive my interruption. We have informed the khalasar to meet us back in the clearing at nightfall. That is when we will move forward with our plans. It is time for us to make our first move.”

* * *

**_Location: Winterfell, the North. Time: Continuation(1x02)_ **

**_——_ Catelyn Stark POV——**

Catelyn Tully-Stark has never been one to waiver in her faith of the Seven. From the moment she was born, her own mother and father taught her about the Seven Gods who hold power over every aspect of life.

[1] First, _the Father_. A figure who represents divine justice. The God responsible for judging those that pass on from mortal life. The one responsible for deciding how one lived their life and lived a life worthy of reward or one meriting punishment.

Next, _the Mother_. Said to represent mercy, peace, fertility, and childbirth. The Goddess who Catelyn can remember praying to the most. During her five pregnancies and birthings, Catelyn would pray to _the Mother_ without relent. She relied on the Goddess to provide her with the strength needed to persevere the pain of birthing her beautiful, healthy children.

After she comes _the Maiden_. Said to represent purity, innocence, love, and beauty. Catelyn would oftentimes send prayers to _the_ _Maiden_ in the steed of her children, wishing for them to retain their innocence and purity for as long as possible. And Catelyn knows and anyone that _the Maiden’s_ power over beauty can be a gift and a curse. She already fears for Sansa because of the blossoming beauty she is showing at such a young age.

One that Catelyn has also prayed to at different times throughout her life is _the Crone._ The celestial being said to represent wisdom and foresight. Catelyn would often pray to the being, requesting the wisdom and foresight to raise her children to be the perfect, noble daughters of House Stark.

Fifth comes _the Warrior_ ; a being that Catelyn as never personally had any reason to pray to. She knows that Ned keeps his faith in the Old Gods rather than the new ones she believes in, but she doesn’t doubt that her husband prays to some form of _the Warrior_ because of what he represents. That being strength and courage during battle.

Second to last comes _the Smith._ The being said to preside over the domains of creation and craftsmanship. Once more, Catelyn has had little reason to pray to _the Smith_.

Lastly and the God that instills the most fear in her is _the Stranger._ The celestial being of Death and the Unknown.

As all of this passes through Catelyn’s head as she looks down at Bran’s broken, pale form, she cannot help but feel a bit empty where she usually feels faith. She never imagined that one of her children would undergo such tragedy during their childhood. Now, Catelyn knows that it is likely that her poor boy will never walk again. Never ride a horse or play-fight with Arya again.

Catelyn chuckles softly to herself. As much as it pains her to admit it, she does feel a little safer knowing that her youngest daughter may be able to protect herself should the need ever arise. “Are you alright, my lady?”

She is drawn from her thoughts by Maester Luwin’s voice. She nods her head, “I am fine, Maester. Thank you.”

The man nods, going back to his medicinal supplies. She watches him for a moment before rising to her feet. “I will be back in a few minutes, Maester Luwin. Please keep an eye on Bran.”

The man nods softly, “Of course, my lady. I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.”

Catelyn nods and pushes herself to her feet. She walks to the wooden door, turning back to look at Bran where he lies in bed. She takes a deep breath before opening the door and closing it gently behind her.

She takes a moment to collect herself before setting off through the corridors of Winterfell. She soon comes to her husband’s office and knocks on the door. She hears Ned’s voice call out, “Come in.”

She pushes open the door, walking inside. Then she closes the door behind her. Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim light of the windowless room, noticing her husband where he sits at his desk. He has his chin resting in his hands, staring at the wall.

“Are you alright, my love?” Catelyn questions softly.

Ned turns to face her, shifting the chair to look more directly at her. A sigh leaves his lips. “How is Bran?”

“He’s still unconscious,” Catelyn replies brokenly. “How has this happened, Ned? He was always so sure-footed.”

Ned shakes his head, “I do not know. It could be a ledge he was standing on shifted and he fell. We cannot know.”

Catelyn sighs, “It isn’t fair. He will likely never walk again. Whatever shall he do?”

Ned rises to his feet, walking over to her. He gently places his calloused right hand on her cheek. “He will be fine. He may not be able to be a knight anymore, but he can still help his brother lead Winterfell once I am gone. He will not be left for nothing.”

Catelyn nods, “You are right. At least he still lives. Maybe once he wakes up, he can tell us what happened.”

“I want him to wake as badly as you, Cat. But we have to prepare ourselves for the possibility that he won’t. I will not place my hope on him opening his eyes again merely for it to be proven wrong.” Ned states.

Catelyn looks down, “I know,” she whispers. “You are right. I just cannot imagine losing him to something as silly as a fall.”

Ned nods, turning his focus back to the wall. Catelyn frowns, “What is troubling you, Ned?”

Ned sighs, his chest heaving, “I still have to go, Cat.”

“Go? Go where?” She questions, momentarily forgetting what her husband has to do. “No! No. No, you cannot leave. Your son needs you! He needs his father.”

Ned shakes his head, turning to face her again. “Cat, you know I would never leave our family if I had a choice. I cannot allow Tywin to take Jon’s place. That would be dooming our lives as we know it. Robert expects me and my men to be at the royal precession by nightfall.”

“Tonight? You are leaving tonight and you only saw fit to tell me now!?” Catelyn demands.

Ned looks down at her, “I am sorry. I have been a bit preoccupied. I planned to tell you the other night before Bran fell but that occurring made me rethink my priorities.”

Catelyn nods her head sadly, “Have you told Robb? He has a right to hear it from you. And Sansa. She may want to accompany you. She has her eye on the prince now.”

Ned shakes his head, “I am going to do that now. And you need to talk to Sansa. The prince is nothing but trouble. Dissuade her from her liking of him.”

Catelyn nods, “I will.”

Ned looks at her again, his stormy-grey eyes sad. “I never wanted this. I hope you realize that, Cat. I don’t want this position and I do not want to leave our family. I only do so because I know what the alternative is and even with that, I do it with a heavy heart.”

Catelyn nods, “I know you wouldn’t. I trust your judgment, my love.”

Silence falls over the room until Catelyn says, “I will accompany you to say your goodbyes to our children. You may need my help to keep them accepting of this.”

Ned nods, “Alright. Again, I am very sorry, Cat. I didn’t want this. Not at all.”

The two exit Ned’s office, making for Septa Mordane’s room. Before they get there, Ned stops Jory Cassel and says, “I will be at the precession at sundown. Make sure the rest of my men are ready to go by then as well.”

The man nods and walks away. When Ned and Catelyn reach the Septa’s room, Ned knocks on the door before opening it.

The moment Arya sees him, she is across the room and clinging to his leg. “Is it time for training, father? Is it? Please say it is. I am bored.”

Ned sighs, lowering himself down onto a knee. “Sansa, come here. I need to talk with you both.”

His more proper daughter walks over, holding up her skirt so she can sit down in front of him. “What is it, father?”

“You both know that the King has been visiting. What you don’t know is why. He came here to make me his Hand.” Ned states slowly and clearly.

Sansa gasps, “The King is naming you his Hand?”

Ned nods, “Yes. And I have accepted.”

“Ooh,” Arya says. “Can I come? I want to see King’s Landing.”

“Me too, father. Can I come?” Sansa’s eyes grow dreamy and Ned assumes she is thinking about a certain golden-haired prince.

“I am afraid not.” He ignores Arya’s dismayed exclamations, continuing. “King’s Landing is far too dangerous at the moment, for me to even consider bringing either of you along. I cannot risk anything happening to either of you.”

Sansa looks disappointed but nods, “I understand, father.”

Arya on the other hand still looks upset, “But father, I want to come with you!”

Ned places his hands on either side of her face, “I know you do, Arya. And I wish it was safe. But I will not risk your or Sansa’s lives taking you to King’s Landing right now. It is far too dangerous.”

Arya still looks miffed but nods, “I understand, father.” She mutters.

Ned smiles slightly, rising to his feet. “Good. I will write each month to tell you both what I am experiencing.”

Ned looks at Arya, “While I am gone, you have to promise me that you will listen to the Septa while you are learning and will obey what Ser Rodrik tells you to do when training.”

Arya nods, “I will, father.”

Ned nods, “Good.” He leans down, pressing his lips to her forehead. He turns to Sansa, “Goodbye, my daughter.”

Sansa murmurs, “Goodbye, father.”

“Arya, come with me. I have a gift for you.” Ned says as he walks toward the door.

Arya races after him, her energy never seising. “I will bring her back in a minute,” Ned tells Catelyn. He leads his daughter to his study and opens the door, allowing her to enter.

She enters slowly, not usually allowed to be in his study. He walks to his desk and picks up a small parcel wrapped in paper. He hands it to Arya, smiling at the excitement on her small cheeks. She rips it open, gasping at what is revealed.

“Oh, thank you!” She cries, running to embrace his leg again.

Ned smiles slightly before turning serious, “This is not a toy, Arya. Promise me that you will be careful.”

Arya nods, “I will, father.”

“Good. Well, you better name it. All true swords have a name.” Ned says softly.

Arya takes a moment to think before stating matter-of-factly, “Needle. I shall call it, Needle. Sansa has her needles and now I have mine.”

Ned laughs, “A good game.” He reaches down, pulling her into his arms and taking the blade from her grasp. He places it on his desk for a moment. “Keep training, Arya. I will see your progress when I return.”

Arya nods, her small face pressing against his neck, “I will father. I promise.”

Ned takes Arya back to the Septa’s room, informing his daughter that she can get her sword from Ser Rodrik when she arrives for her training. He says his goodbyes to everyone else before finding Robb in the courtyard of Winterfell. He watches the Queen walk by a moment later, a golden-haired man walking just behind her. The dwarf walks after them, a flask of wine in one hand

Ned turns his focus to Robb. “I am sorry to leave, son.”

Robb shakes his head, “No, I understand, father. Duty calls. The King needs you and you must answer his call.”

Ned nods, “You know that in my absence, you are the Lord of Winterfell.”

Robb nods slowly, “I know, father. I will do my best to make you proud.”

Ned shakes his head, “You need not worry. I could not be prouder of the man you are becoming. Besides, you will have all the aid you could need. Do not be afraid to ask Ser Rodrik for help. He knows the most about Winterfell beside myself.”

Robb nods, “I understand, father.”

Ned smiles, “Good. I will miss you, Robb. Keep an eye on your sisters and Greyjoy. He needs someone to keep him in line.”

Robb nods, “I know he does. I will make sure he doesn’t act out in your absence.”  
Ned smiles sadly at his son, a sense of finality hanging over him, “Goodbye, Robb.”

“Goodbye, father.”

Ned pulls his son into a brief hug before turning and walking over to Catelyn. “I am sorry. Keep me informed on Bran’s condition.”

Catelyn nods, “Of course.”

Ned leans down to look at his youngest son where he stands at his mother’s side. He gently taps Rickon’s nose, eliciting a giggle from the three-year-old. He rises to his feet, walking over to where Jory stands holding his horse’s reins. He climbs on, turning to look at his family one last time. He waves, guiding his horse through the gates of Winterfell and out into the surrounding land.

* * *

**_Location: The Road to Starfall, Dorne. Time: Continuation(1x02)._ **

**——Jon Sand POV——**

Jon feels his chin slump forward a bit as weariness sweeps through him. His mother takes a deep breath, her own breathing slower than normal. “We will stop soon, Jon. We need to reach the inn a couple of miles from here. Sleeping out here with no food or water is not a good idea.”

Jon nods, sitting up a little straighter. “Is the whole ride to Dorne like this?”

“Sandy and hot?” His mother asks. “No. We are coming up on a stretch of forests that will last for the majority of the trip.”

“Good. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Jon says.

Ashara laughs lightly, “You need to grow more accustomed to the heat. Starfall, while less hot than this, is much hotter than where we have lived for years.”

Jon sighs, “Of course it is.”

“You sound like your father,” Ashara says. “Ned always hated the heat. He likes his cool, northern weather.”

Jon perks up at the mention of Ned Stark, “What do you think father is doing right now?”

Ashara sighs, “I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t seen him in well over a decade. A lot has changed. If I know him at all, he is probably enjoying his life with his kids.”

Jon notices his mother excludes any mention of his father’s other wife and decides against pointing that out. “Can you tell me more about Winterfell?”

Ashara smiles wistfully, “Of course. Winterfell is beautiful. I will tell you that right now. It is a different kind of beauty from Starfall, but beautiful nonetheless. I wasn’t there for long, but what I saw was a unique landscape. From on top of a snowy hill, I could see the walls of Winterfell hung with the Stark banners. Trees bloomed all around it and a forest next to it housed the most beautiful tree I have ever seen. The woods was called the Godswood and the tree was called a weirwood tree. It plays a major role in the Faith of the Seven I have told you about.”

Jon allows himself to drift into his imagination, attempting to picture his father’s home from his mother’s words.

* * *

**A/N.**

**Wow. I am so sorry for how long I was AWOL. I have had a lot going on in my life. I had to get a coronavirus test today as I haven’t been feeling well at all but I decided I could get one chapter up to you all, first.**

**Happy 2021 to all my readers, as well. I hope everyone’s years have started in a good way.**

** **This is the first story I have ever written to cross the threshold of 100,000 words. I have written other stories but I never got around to writing anything this long before. And there is a long way to go. I would estimate upwards of 450,000 upon completion but it will likely take a very long time.** **

**Now, onto my explanations for the chapter:**

**The major point of this chapter is to set up the next. The Targaryens are finally going to make their first move. I can’t wait for all of you to read what I have planned and I hope it doesn’t disappoint.**

**Vaela is a character I have wanted to add for a while. Her role as Rhaenys’ handmaiden will basically mirror Missandei’s role to Daenerys on the GoT show.**

**The Winterfell storyline will still be explored after Ned’s departure, as will the storyline at King’s Landing.**

**Arya got Needle. I couldn’t stop myself from adding that. Jon will never really be able to give her it, so Ned did instead. Since he is allowing her to be trained, that is not at all farfetched.**

**Okay, Ashara and Jon have weeks of travel left. Each of their sections in chapters will be relatively short for the time being. And if I stick to plan, each should have Ashara telling Jon more about the North and his father.**

**[1] The information about the Faith of the Seven comes directly from ‘Game of Thrones Wiki.’ I do not claim the information as my own.**

**Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! Again, I apologize for the long wait.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> A quick warning, the only knowledge of the GoT world I possess is from the show so I may make mistakes from time to time.


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